On the Run
by Velkyn Karma
Summary: While Ichigo is out fighting hollows, Kon stays home and takes command of his body. But when an unexpected pair of bounty-hunters show up at the Kurosaki clinic, Kon is forced into a race to see if he can outrun his own execution.
1. Chapter 1

**On the Run**

A fanfiction by Velkyn Karma

**Note: **Written because Kon still doesn't get enough love in the serious sense. Partly inspired by _zara2148 _generously donating me a list of serious Kon-fics, but then I realized..most of them are one-shots. The poor guy doesn't have his own real adventure! So here's one, just for him.

**Setting**: Takes place in manga-verse, after Kon's introduction but before the Soul Society arc.

**Summary:** While Ichigo is out fighting hollows, Kon stays home and takes command of his body. But when an unexpected pair of bounty-hunters show up at the Kurosaki clinic, Kon is forced into a race to see if he can outrun his own execution.

Warnings: Gets a little gritty at the end. Rated for said grittiness and some swearing.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own, or pretend to own, _Bleach _and any related characters or concepts. That right belongs to Tite Kubo alone. All that belongs to me here is the concept for the story.

* * *

"_If you wanna get out alive...run for your life!"_

~Get Out Alive, 3 Days Grace

* * *

Another boring day, another boring hollow fight, and another couple of hours that Kon was left alone in a body that wasn't his, in a house that wasn't his, completely without permission to leave. Some days, the Mod-soul decided irritably, his life was absolutely _miserable._

It was a Saturday mid-afternoon on an early spring day. Japan had been undergoing an unusual heat wave, and the temperature in Ichigo's room was positively unbearable. Kon could have dealt with it easily enough if allowed to remain in his cotton lion body. There, he had no nerves to feel heat, and couldn't feel sticky from uncomfortable sweat that his body wasn't even capable of producing. So normally, Kon wouldn't have minded today at all.

Unfortunately, today was anything but normal. An hour ago Rukia had burst out of her tiny closet (really, she deserved more than that, Kon reflected absently) and held up her Soul-pager, claiming that a hollow was due to appear. She had forced Kon out of his comfortable lion body and into Ichigo's smelly, disgusting one, and within seconds they had gone haring off into the town with only a moment's hesitation to _expressly forbid Kon from leaving the house._

Really, he was getting tired of living here. He was tempted to take a joyride around the town just to spite Ichigo. After all, while the rooms were boiling, there had to be a nice breeze outside. And it was spring after all; Kon's first spring, the season when everything came to life and was born anew, something he appreciated far more than he let on. Not to mention, naturally, that all the lovely women in the wide world outside would be casting off their bulky winter clothing in favor of lighter, cooler garments, revealing quite a good deal of special...endowments. But he was terrified of Rukia-neesan's wrath if they returned before he did. So here he was, stuck in a broiling room, in a body that was already damp and uncomfortable from the heat.

_Think positively_, he suggested to himself. Well, he supposed there were positives. Since it was the weekend, the clinic was closed and Ichigo's father and sisters were all out. That meant he had free reign of the house, at least; neither Ichigo nor Rukia had forbidden him from that. It would probably be a little cooler downstairs, and maybe he could find something cool to drink as well. Ichigo's throat was getting a little dry. While he hated helping the bastard out, Ichigo's body's comfort was currently his own, and he hated being more uncomfortable than he already was.

It was decided. Kon rolled off the bed he had been laying spread-eagled on, hoping to gain a cool breeze from the window (he hadn't) and stepped towards the door, inwardly delighted at being so tall. One of the (admittedly few) positives about being stuck in Ichigo's body was that he wasn't dwarfed by anything in the house, meaning he could open the door with a simple flick of the wrist instead of jumping and writhing his whole body around to get enough leverage for it. No one really appreciated height or thumbs until they never had them.

Just as he reached the door, however, he heard an unexpected_ thud_ from the roof.

Puzzled, Kon looked up. That couldn't be Ichigo, or Rukia-neesan. They both always came to the window when they returned, and besides, they could take the clinic door if they had to. Maybe a hollow? But no, he would've sensed it. He was built for that, after all (the thought left a bad taste, but he ignored it quickly). Ichigo's father and sisters had all left, for certain, as he had watched them walk away from the clinic in a fit of boredom. That didn't leave very many options, but maybe it was that guy that had originally sold him to Rukia-neesan in the first place?

Kon turned around towards the window, wondering if maybe the visitor (he was sure it was hat-and-clogs now) would announce himself. That was when he felt the strange, invasive energy and a strong spiritual pressure.

As a rule, Kon wasn't especially adept at sensing spiritual energies. His talents were mostly geared towards sensing hollows a few minutes before their arrival, a natural version of Rukia's cellphone-like machine given to all combative souls. A soul, even a powerful one with an immense pressure, needed to be fairly close for him to accurately sense it: within ten yards at least. So the fact that he could sense not one, but _two_ pressures on par with a shinigami was more than a little frightening. They could be allies, but Kon knew better than to hope for that. He crouched, reached out his hand, and nervously but quietly began sliding the door open.

Then he heard them. "This feel like the place?"

A laugh. "You can't feel it?" the second voice asked, a little mockingly. "Right below us, you idiot. Seems pretty inactive, but it won't stay that way for long."

It. _It._ Kon hadn't been referred to as an it for months, not since Ichigo had protested his destruction and he and Rukia had taken responsibility for him. _It_ didn't mean a person, it just meant a mod-soul. Mod souls were never considered people, living beings, not ever; he'd learned that the day he was both born and slated for execution. It was not a good sign.

Damn.

"Yah, you're right. Shall we get started then?"

"After you!"

No time to think. Kon whipped the door open fully and spun as though to run through it, but screeched to a halt when a pair of figures hurtled through the open window directly at him. One, taller and broader of shoulder with tanned skin and narrow, dark eyes, leapt directly at him. The second, thinner and paler than his companion, ran into the doorway and blocked it, grinning wildly. Both were dressed like shinigami, and each had an unusual, triangle-shaped badge with a strange bug-like skull on it dangling from their belts.

Shinigami. Oh, _damn._

"Where you off to in a hurry?" The first said tauntingly. Kon didn't respond, instead backing up a few paces, now trying to inch toward the window. The second laughed, and the first added, "Now now, no runnin'. Y'know, the Society insisted you pests be erased ages ago. I don't know how you escaped--probably dumb luck. But now you're out in stolen goods, so we're gonna have to put an end to that, y'hear?"

Kon wanted to yell a million things, like _not stolen--freely given!_ or _what right do you have to choose?_ but he still remained silent, eyeing the window anxiously. Not so much to escape--they already knew he wanted to make a break for the window, and would be prepared. No, he was hoping that Rukia-neesan, or even that punk Ichigo, would show up any minute to diffuse the situation.

"It ain't respondin', Shichi," the one in the doorway said, still smirking.

"You really expect it to?" the larger man, apparently Shichi, responded. "It's an artificial soul. A machine-soul. It don't got a mind, you idiot, just power and a body."

Kon narrowed his eyes. The man at the door laughed. "Maybe, but look, y'pissed it off."

"Just pretendin', I bet. Prolly picked it up from whoever it stole the body from."

"Figures."

"Well, we're outta time here, so, we're just gonna erase ya now, alright?" Shichi grinned and brought his weapon to bear. Kon's eyes dropped to it, and he could practically feel Ichigo's face going pale at the sight of it. It was almost like a sword, almost like the zanpaku-to the soul-reapers used. Only it lacked a form, and existed more or less as red-tinted energy; a mere suggestion of a katana. Kon could feel an almost burning heat radiating from it, and instinctively knew he did not want to be touched with that weapon.

So as the man leapt forward, swinging his odd energy-katana with vicious speed, Kon leapt as well. Not straight up, Ichigo's ceiling certainly wouldn't allow for that; but straight forward, halving the strength he sent to Ichigo's legs to make sure he didn't crash into the wall. He shot past the surprised Shichi and out of sword range, hit the floorboards, rolled, and launched himself to his feet again with his powerful legs. Then, without hesitating, almost faster than the shinigami could react, he jumped forward again and kicked out, sending one heel flying at the man in the door.

Kon knew he would dodge, and dodge he did, yelping and throwing himself hastily to the floor in surprise. That was the only reason he sent such a destructive kick straight at the man's face. Even with them clearly hunting him, he couldn't bring himself to murder either man. The foot instead connected with the wooden doorframe, shattering it and spending splinters everywhere, causing another pair of surprised yelps from his attackers.

Kon wouldn't kill, but he _could_ escape. And so, as the man dropped his guard in favor of the dodge, Kon tore through the doorway and down the hall at blinding speed, leapt over the stairs, and bolted for the front door. He stopped long enough only to shove his feet into a pair of sneakers. Thankfully, Ichigo had been lazy and just slipped his feet out without bothering to unlace them. Then he unlocked the door, throwing it wide. A vague part of him hoped that the clinic wouldn't be robbed in his absence, but most of him didn't care.

The last thing he heard was the pair of strange shinigami, yelling. "_I thought it was an overpod type!_" the first shrieked, and "_obviously not, it's got lower body enhancement_," from the second.

But even as he heard the slap of their sandals against the ground behind him, he reached the open street, and felt a breath of relief. In close quarters, he was in trouble. In the open air, they'd never catch him. Leaning forward, putting every ounce of energy he had into his borrowed legs, Kon ran as fast and as far as he could.

* * *

The sun was low in the sky by the time Ichigo and Rukia returned from their latest hollow-fighting venture. Ichigo couldn't exactly say he was _exhausted_. Spiritual bodies didn't tire in the same way physical ones did, and he hadn't expended much of his energy today. But he certainly was annoyed. They had only left for one hollow, but half a dozen more had appeared in fairly rapid progression, each within thirty to forty-five minutes of each other. In the end they had discovered the hollows were interested in feeding upon an especially elusive ghost, one with a fairly high spiritual pressure of its own. It had taken nearly an hour to convince that soul to pass on, and by the time they had finished their work Ichigo had lost the majority of his day to his unexpected and not wholly wanted job.

He was looking forward to getting back to his body, maybe having a relaxing bath before getting started on the homework he had _planned_ to do that afternoon. Which was why his annoyance went up considerably when they returned back to the clinic to find the front door wide open, his room in a shambles, and Kon--and his body!--completely gone.

"Where the hell is he?" Ichigo growled. "He'd better not be out making the news like he did last time!"

"I wouldn't put it past him," Rukia said frankly. But she didn't appear to be paying Ichigo the slightest bit of attention. Rather, she was staring around the disturbed room with a frown, examining the broken door frame, and considering thoughtfully.

"What are you doing?" Ichigo finally asked, impatient. "Shouldn't we be out looking for him, if he's loose?" Turning, the temporary soul-reaper moved towards the window to do just that, but Rukia held up an unexpected hand.

"Wait."

"Wait? Wait for what?"

"Something isn't right here. There's something else at work besides just Kon..."

"Like _what?_ You just said yourself, it'd be like him to hijack my body again and go out on a spree for attention."

"True, but...I think there was someone else here. It's faint, but I can feel a residual spiritual presence, and it isn't Kon's."

Ichigo froze. Then, very slowly, he asked, "You mean there was somebody else in my room?"

"That's right."

"And it wasn't a ghost?"

"It's too strong a pressure for it to be a ghost. Ghosts are faint and leave only a vague imprint on the world. They're passive. This was an active expenditure of energy, but...it's hard to tell. Can we go up to the roof?"

"The roof?"

"I think maybe I could feel it better up there."

Ichigo shrugged. "Fine. If you think it'll help." As usual when faced with feats beyond a gigai's ability, the temporary soul-reaper piggy-backed Rukia and leapt on invisible, solidified points in the air to the roof in a matter of moments. He let her down, and she frowned, trotting forward a few more paces and walking in a circle.

"Well?"

"As I feared," she finally announced. "There was _kido_ used here...a seeking spell, if I'm not mistaken. Its residue is faint, but stronger than it was downstairs, and enough for me to recognize."

"Seeking spell?"

"It's..." she hesitated, as though unsure how to explain, but then pushed on. "It's a non-combat kido, usually used in reconnaissance and tracking. The user can identify even low-pressure beings with fair enough accuracy, if used correctly--though, if used inexpertly, a few minor incorrect readings might manifest instead of true ones. Most spiritual presences can be identified with it. Humans, hollows, shinigami...even artificial souls."

Artificial souls. In other words, Mod-souls, like Kon.

"And they used it here?"

"Yes..."

"Did they identify Kon?" Ichigo pressed. Both knew the danger if the answer was yes. Kon was an illegal fugitive after all, slated for execution months ago. If the Soul Society discovered he existed, he would be destroyed. No, that wasn't right...that still implied that he was a _thing,_ a pill, not a person. If they found him, they would kill him.

But Rukia only shook her head. "It's impossible to figure out if the spell was successful or not. Especially when it's already faded like this. It must have been used hours ago."

Hours ago. Not too long after they had left to go kill the first of those hollows. _Damn_ it. "Do you think they got him? Can you tell if he's still in our world?"

She frowned. "I'm not sure. It's hard to say. But, judging by the state of the house...I would guess not. The room was understandably a mess, but a shinigami would have no reason to leave the front door wide open. We can pass through walls. Only a solid being would need to open a door to leave."

"A solid being." Ichigo grimaced. "Like Kon, in _my_ body."

"That's right."

"Hmph." Part of him was pleased to hear it, in a way. While he and Kon frequently bickered like cats and dogs--or perhaps lions and dogs would be more accurate--he had an (admittedly miniscule) grain of respect for the mod-soul. Kon could be annoying, and many days Ichigo wondered why he put up with the little pest. But at the same time, he had a principle: his respect for life, and his wish to choose how he lived or died as a being that had truly been born. Ichigo respected that, and that was why he had protested when Hat-and-Clogs tried to carry the captured mod-soul away for destruction, why he gave the mod-soul a home.

He had the right to live. And now somebody was trying to take that away. Annoying or no, that didn't sit right with Ichigo, and he would do something about it if he could.

"Alright," the temporary soul-reaper said. "Well, at least he's still alive. He'd better be taking good care of my body at least, or when he gets back I'll kick his ass. So. Kon's on the loose in the city. Should we go track him down?" He gestured to the device in Rukia's hand, the phone-like object she used to receive hollow orders.

"Ah...I can't. Not with this."

"What? Why not?"

"For one thing, this model is designed only to track hollows," Rukia explained, a touch huffily in response to Ichigo's annoyed tone. "And for another, this one is tied specifically to the Soul Society. If I were able to plug in Kon's information to track him, the Society would be able to as well, and you know what they'll do to him if they find him."

"Oh..."

"Besides," Rukia added, almost hesitantly, "even if I could, and the information was private, Kon's spiritual pressure is too weak for it to pick up on. I can only assume it's because he's an ambush-class mod-soul..."

"Wait, he's a what?" Now Ichigo wore an expression of confusion mixed in with his perpetual scowl.

"Ah....I told you about Project Spearhead when we first met Kon," Rukia reminded. Ichigo nodded, and she continued. "In addition to giving each mod-soul its own unique enhancement abilities to take advantage of the corpse it was injected into, the designers also modified the spiritual pressure each mod-soul exhibited. Naturally, they needed to make sure that none of these artificial souls displayed exceptionally powerful spiritual pressures...they needed to be controlled."

At Ichigo's frown, she added, "Don't look at me like that! Just think of how much damage Kon managed to cause, and he wasn't even a malicious mod-soul. Artificial souls that were too strong to control could become very dangerous, very fast. So most of them have very weak pressures to begin with, and little ability beyond enhancing a corpse as designed. But these were divided into two categories, as well. 'Ambush' class mod-souls had low, nearly untraceable spiritual pressures and were designed to hide and then take hollows by surprise. 'Tank' class mod-souls also have low pressures naturally, but _appeared_ to have a very high spiritual ability, which would draw hollows directly to them."

"As bait," Ichigo finished with a growl. "You were going to use them as cannon-fodder."

"I didn't say I approved of it!" Rukia said sharply, looking a little hurt. "Besides, it's a moot point. Kon would have to be the former. I can barely sense him, and only if he's within a few feet of us. I couldn't track him if I tried."

Ichigo was still frowning, but slowly the expression shifted to thoughtful. "So what you're saying," he summarized, "is that we've got a shinigami on the loose that's chasing Kon. He's out in the world in my body, we can't track him, and this other guy can, because he has a special seeking-whatever."

"That's about it," Rukia agreed with a grimace.

"And there's no way we can find him before this other guy does?"

"Well..." she hesitated. "There might be a way," she admitted, "but only if we make a quick stop first. I know somebody who might be able to help us out, but it could take a little work, and a little shady dealing."

"You don't mean--"

"That's right. Urahara."

Ichigo groaned.

* * *

And there's chapter 1.

This fic is about 90% written, so rest assured it will be finished. Hopefully you'll all enjoy it.

And please remember. If you decide to leave a review, please be sure to put something constructive in it! What worked well, and what didn't? What did you like, and what do you think could have been done better? Constructive criticism helps people grow as writers!

~VelkynKarma


	2. Chapter 2

**On the Run**

Part two of a fanfiction by Velkyn Karma

**Disclaimer: **I do not own, or pretend to own, _Bleach _and any related characters or concepts. That right belongs to Tite Kubo alone. All that belongs to me here is the concept for the story.

* * *

"Nothing is more painful to the human mind than, after the feelings have been worked up by a quick succession of events, the dead calmness of inaction and certainty which follows and deprives the soul both of hope and fear."

--Victor, _Frankenstein_

* * *

Kon ran for hours. Time was hard to judge, especially in his panicked state, but he could certainly tell it was getting late when he saw his shadow stretched out far to his left. The sun was going down; he guessed it would be dark in an hour or two.

He wished he could stop, but he knew it wasn't an option. He hadn't been running full-sprint for hours; he didn't think even he as a mod-soul was capable of it. Hell, he doubted even Ichigo could do it as a soul-reaper, and they had a different kind of fatigue altogether. He sprinted for a while, zipping down roads, up alleys, past shops. He shot by stunned people who could tell _something_ had gone past but weren't skilled enough to see anything more than a human-sized blur. He muttered to himself rapidly under his breath, trying to figure out which turns to take and why those people were even after him to begin with. How had they found him? When he could tell he was reaching his limit, he would slow down to a marathon gait, straining endurance but not winding himself completely. And after the last fiasco when he'd stolen Ichigo's body the first time, he was careful to make the switch only in places where people couldn't see him. Kon liked the attention--loved, actually, would be the better word, he admitted to himself--but if he was being pursued by two high-level shinigami, attention was the last thing he needed.

But even though he was far faster than any human, and indeed faster than most shinigami in a full-out sprint, it was impossible to shake his pursuers. The first time he had sprinted merely to the outskirts of Karakura and then circled it, hoping he had ditched his unwanted hunters. But just when he was beginning to think he was in the clear and was congratulating himself loudly on losing 'those pathetic freaks,' he had felt that strange, invasive energy once again, the same one that had clawed at him moments before the arrival of his two pursuers. And sure enough, only moments later the two had reappeared, grinning wickedly as they ran towards him.

Kon yelped loudly, but he hadn't hesitated. He didn't really want to leave Karakura town. The farther he got from it, the less chance Rukia-neesan, or even that stupid Ichigo, would have to find him and help him. But if he stayed here, he was going to die. So when he had seen those two dangerous men jogging towards him once again, he had spun on his heel in mid-step and bolted, forcing himself into a full sprint once again. He heard something crack behind him, saw something smash into the buildings in front of him, and understood then that one of them, at least, had a ranged weapon. He nearly bit Ichigo's tongue, clamping his teeth together in an extreme effort _not_ to start yelling and give away his position even further, though the shot had startled him badly. After that, he had dodged behind buildings, shifted position constantly, and did anything else he could to break up line of sight while running at top speed away from his home.

His home. Funny, that. Just this morning he would have done almost anything to get out of the clinic, and now that he was free of it, he wanted nothing more than to go back. It really was _home._

But he didn't know where home was now, many hours later. He didn't even know where _he_ was, much to his dismay. Kon had alternated between endurance running and all-out sprinting, but he had never once stopped moving after that unfortunate meeting. And while he could occasionally feel that invasive power brushing at his heels--it had to be some sort of tracking ability, he realized now--it occurred less and less the longer he went.

And he went through quite a few places, too. Karakura eventually faded to suburbs, which in turn faded to wide country that eventually built back into more suburbs. Kon had cut through the fields, over peoples' lawns, and dodged at a whim down different roads, doing anything he could to shake off his pursuers and make his path less predictable.

Now it was nearly dark, and Kon found himself in another city. It felt a bit similar to Karakura, but much bigger, and a little more crowded. He didn't know the name of it. To be honest, he didn't much care. The mod-soul had other concerns on his mind at the moment.

For starters, his hijacked body was exhausted. Mod-souls could enhance physical human bodies far past their natural limits, but it didn't mean they were utterly invulnerable. Kon's endurance and ability lasted far longer than a normal human's, but he could still tire, even in a strong body such as Ichigo's. After running for several hours straight, often at his top speed, even Kon's enhanced legs were beginning to feel shaky. He needed to rest, and soon, or he wouldn't be able to keep running if he had to. _Dammit_, but human bodies were such a pain!

The problem was, he didn't know if he had the time to rest. He was sure he had outrun the shinigami, or at any rate he had outdistanced their search spell. And he had taken enough crazy twists and turns to hope he had thrown them off. But Kon wasn't about to be foolishly optimistic. Those soul-reapers had been out for his blood; they wanted him dead, considered him worthless, and had pursued him doggedly for hours. He doubted they would give up so easily, and he had a feeling they would find him, probably sooner than later. He didn't want to give them that opportunity. He didn't want to die, and he knew it was likely he wouldn't get away again. He only had the first time because they had underestimated him, a mistake they were unlikely to make again.

It became a terrifying paradox. He had to rest, so he could run; but he had to run, so he could get far enough from them to rest. It frightened him.

His other problem, he realized soon after entering the city, was food. Food was not something he had a good deal of experience with, as a mod-soul. He himself was consumed more often than he ate; his natural form, the pill, had no use for food, nor did the stuffed lion form. On rare occasions he had been forced to pretend to be Ichigo while the temporary soul-reaper left before dinner, but he could usually take some food up to the room and eat it, or be content to wait until Ichigo came back. The rumbling stomach was, at most, a nuisance, but not a necessity.

Now it was vital. He had expended a lot of Ichigo's physical energy in the run, and though some of it had been supplemented by Kon's own spiritual enhancement strength, the body was still in dire need of nourishment. His stomach rumbled painfully, and his throat was dry and sticky, making it hard to swallow. Kon mumbled tiredly under his breath, complained angrily at Ichigo's stomach, and told it firmly to _shut up_, but it did not listen and continued to beg for food mercilessly.

But like sleep, he had no way to obtain food, either. Kon had checked, but Ichigo's wallet wasn't in his pants pockets, and the mod-soul seemed to vaguely recall it sitting on the desk back home. No wallet meant no money, and no money meant no food. He supposed he could try to steal it, but his body felt clumsy; there was no way he would be able to pull of a heist without being spotted, and attention was the last thing he needed.

He wandered for an hour, stumbling through the streets against crowds of people, talking to himself to keep himself moving, grimacing at the glares of distaste and annoyance he received from other humans. It was as though they knew what he was, though he logically understood they didn't. To them, he just looked like a normal teenager...well, almost normal, except for Ichigo's bright-orange hair. They couldn't see that he was an artificial soul, and their glares weren't condemning him for being born.

But it felt that way all the same.

In the end, Kon gave up on salvaging dinner. Instead, as darkness fully descended, he ducked into an unlit alley and curled up in the farthest, blackest corner he could find, more collapsing than laying down. Kon was unfamiliar enough with the human world not to realize what a dangerous situation he had placed himself in; he didn't know that alleys were considered dangerous, or that he was incredibly vulnerable here. All he knew was that in his dark little corner, the glares of the night-life outside wouldn't reach him, and they couldn't condemn him for his decision to live.

It was chilly, he realized, when Ichigo's body suddenly began shivering. Temperature really _was_ an obnoxious thing to deal with. Kon enhanced the body, but his very placement within it allowed it to perform its usual automatic functions--including shivering to try and gain warmth, or the almost inaudible whimper that escaped its lips from the discomfort. Funny, how it was so hot earlier, but it was getting so cool now. Grimacing, he curled up tighter, wished desperately that he had one of Ichigo's nice, warm blankets, and tried to sleep.

His last thought was that if Ichigo found him now, the guy would surely kick his ass. Somehow, the thought was comforting, and he drifted off into a dreamless, exhausted doze.

* * *

"I did warn you that keeping that mod-soul would only bring you trouble, you know," Kisuke Urahara said sensibly.

Ichigo scowled at the man, but soon returned to analyzing the surroundings curiously. They were standing in a tiny, unremarkable-looking shop, with unremarkable-looking employees surrounding them; one older man with braids, and two kids. Ichigo would have called the place a waste of time, except that every single one of them could see him, still in his soul-reaper state. That meant there was a hell of a lot of powerful spiritual pressures here, which meant maybe Rukia was on to something.

They had arrived here only a few minutes ago, a half hour after their discovery of the missing Kon. They had remained behind in the clinic only long enough for Rukia to straighten the house up as best she could and leave a note for his family 'from Ichigo,' since he himself couldn't really interact with the world. It only stated that he was going to his friend's house, maybe to stay over for a few days, but hopefully it would be enough. After that she had stuffed a few necessary items into a small knapsack and given Ichigo directions, and here they were now.

"I'm aware of that," Rukia snapped back, a little harshly, and Ichigo broke out of his reverie. She was tapping her foot in annoyance, but otherwise seemed to be keeping remarkably calm against the seedy shopkeep. "Though, your initial warning was that the mod-soul itself would be the one to cause trouble. He's being chased here."

"To be honest, you really have no proof of _that_," Urahara said, almost cheerfully. "Perhaps this other shinigami you spoke of was the catalyst, but your mod-soul is _still _on the loose in the end. Well, you said yourself when you reclaimed him that I wasn't responsible for the mess, so I don't see how it's any of _my_ business!"

Rukia's eye twitched. "I'm not here to force you to react out of responsibility. I'm here as a paying customer requesting specific goods. I'm sure you have some clever way to find him. You showed up quite conveniently last time to try and reclaim him yourself."

"My, my...what are you suggesting, Miss Kuchiki?"

"You know exactly what I'm suggesting. If you're worried about funds, understand that I will pay as a customer, but I _will_ leave with whatever device or information you used to track him last time."

"You drive a hard bargain, Miss Kuchiki," Urahara said with a chuckle. "Well, I suppose I can attempt to help you out, at least, as a valued customer. I don't claim to be an expert on modification-souls myself, but I suppose I understand a thing or two about them." He smiled pleasantly. "Naturally, such information is not exactly _cheap..._"

"I understand."

"Well, then!" Waving a hand absently, the shopkeep gestured to the air as he considered where to start. "Mod-souls are an interesting little invention. Even with a low amount of spiritual pressure they are still fully capable of enhancing a human body far beyond its natural limits. All of them were designed with low spirit-pressures in order to keep their danger level to the Society at a minimum--or at least, that was the theory. However, the Society would naturally still need to keep tabs on them, so they designed a different sort of way to track mod-souls on missions."

"And that is?"

"They emit a different form of energy, and only _strongly_ when actively using their abilities. This keeps hollows from being able to sense their presences--especially the ambush-class mod-souls--but still allows the Society to keep track of them, theoretically."

"A different form of energy?" Rukia looked puzzled.

"That's right. It's on a completely different wavelength from the normal spiritual-pressure sensing most shinigami are capable of using. With time one can learn to sense it as well, but it does take a little practice. The idea was that commanding officers with mod-souls under their command could simply use a device keyed to their mod-souls to keep an eye on them, like a highly tuned radar. However, when Spearhead was scrapped, all research and technology in relation to the mod-souls, as well as the souls themselves, were destroyed."

Rukia frowned. "So you don't have a way to track him after all."

"Aaah, Miss Kuchiki, give me a little credit here! As you say, I did show up rather _conveniently_ to recapture your mod-soul. I know how to sense this other energy, you see? It would take far too long to teach you; it's a very complicated process. But I suppose I could alter a soul-pager for you to track your elusive mod-soul instead...provided, naturally, that you follow a few rules and regulations regarding it."

Rukia's face brightened slightly. "I'm willing to listen to your conditions."

"Very good! The first is that you must destroy it as soon as you find your escaped soul. I'm free of responsibility to it, remember. I'd rather not have any technology regarding it pointing back to me, hmm?"

"Understandable."

"The second," the shopkeep continued, "is that you'll have to wait several hours. I can't feel any mod-souls in Karakura Town, which means it's escaped to the outside. You said it was an ambush-underpod class, didn't you? Unsurprising. When you said it was on the run, it probably is literally _on the run_. It'll be especially difficult to track without any signature to input into the modified soul-pager, but at least it'll light up once it's finished. I doubt it'll stop running for a while. Underpods were always flighty, so I hear."

Ichigo scowled at the store owner. He was getting tired of all this_ it_ talk. Kon was alive, wasn't he? And he was definitely male, if his attraction to breasts was any indication. So why did they keep referring to him as a thing? He was about to speak up, but Rukia shot him a warning look and he snapped his mouth shut sullenly.

Rukia was now digging into her knapsack. "About the signature," she said. "Would this help speed up the process?" And she withdrew from the bag the yellow lion plush toy that Kon usually inhabited when he wasn't in Ichigo's own body.

"A toy?"

"It acts as Kon's host when he isn't used for soul-transfer duties," Rukia explained.

Urahara laughed. "Interesting!" he chuckled. "If only the Society could see it now. I don't think they had intended for animated toys when the mod-souls were designed." He looked thoughtful. "Though, I bet they would be a killer on the market..."

"Forget that! Will this cut the process-time down?"

Urahara held out his hand in answer, and Rukia handed over the limp plush lion. The shopkeep examined the toy with obvious interest, turning it first this way, then that. Then, much to their surprise, he pressed the plush to his ear, displacing his hat. He seemed to be listening intently for a very long time, and then he nodded.

"I think it'll do," he finally answered. "It's a weak signature, but this body has been inhabited long enough that I can use it. This will cut process-time down to two hours, I think."

"Good. Please get started, then."

"Now, now," Urahara said, waving his hand once again. "There's no need to rush. Shouldn't we discuss the matter of pricing first?"

Once again, Ichigo audibly groaned.

* * *

And there is chapter two.

The 'its' versus 'he's' are actually based on the manga/anime itself. In all versions that I've seen/read, Kisuke always referred to the then-nameless Kon as a 'thing' while Ichigo always uses 'he' or 'him.' Rukia seems to switch back and forth until Kon's actually named.

I notice a number of you are watching this fic without actually leaving reviews. Please, by all means, let me know why you even chose to watch it to begin with! I like to know what I'm doing that attracts readers. This is why I like reviews: not as a popularity count, but as a source of improvement. What did you like about this fic that made you want to keep an eye on it? What is done well? What do you think can be improved? This is VERY good for me to know, you see!

--VelkynKarma


	3. Chapter 3

**On the Run**

Part three of a fanfiction by Velkyn Karma

**Note: **Since I'm graduating tomorrow and it will inevitably throw off my updating schedule, you get this one a little early.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own, or pretend to own, _Bleach _and any related characters or concepts. That right belongs to Tite Kubo alone. All that belongs to me here is the concept for the story.

* * *

"I'm so happy dancing while the grim reaper

cuts, cuts, cuts, but he can't get me.

I'm as clever as can be, and I'm very quick but don't forget;

we've only got so many tricks.

no one lives forever."

~Danny Elfman

* * *

It was nearly ten thirty at night before Urahara handed them the altered device and the plush toy lion. He'd disappeared into his back room for close to two hours, leaving Ichigo and Rukia fidgeting uncomfortably under the watchful (and in Jinta's case, sullen) eyes of his employees.

He seemed pleased with the results of the device, however, and spent the next ten minutes instructing Rukia in its use. She listened attentively, brushing her hair back as she looked over Urahara's arm at the modified soul-pager.

"It's not linked to the Soul Society," Urahara concluded, right when Ichigo was about to shout for them to be done already so they could get going. "So no one will be able to pick up the transmissions and find your wayward modified soul, rest assured."

Rukia had politely thanked him before shooing Ichigo out the door, pausing to stuff the currently Kon-less plush back into her knapsack. She held the new device tightly, and once outside the shop began adjusting it as instructed to hone in on Kon's signature.

"Well?" Ichigo pressed, after a few impatient moments. He was anxious to retrieve his body. Last time Kon had vanished in it, he'd gotten a busted arm and a number of other minor wounds for his trouble. And, well, maybe he was _slightly _worried about the mod-soul as well...not that he'd ever admit it out loud.

"In a minute," Rukia hushed him. She fiddled a few moments more, and then abruptly gasped.

"What?"

"Look," she prompted, holding up the screen for him to see. Outlined in spidery little webs was a map of the region, with one blinking slowly blinking dot. "This is Karakura, where we are," Rukia explained, gesturing to one side of the screen. "And Kon is here," she added, pointing at the dot.

It took a moment to decipher the lines, but then Ichigo's eyes widened in surprise. "You're kidding me," he said, bewildered. "That's the next city over...that's a few hours by _car._"

"Kon has enhanced leg strength, remember," Rukia reminded. "His speed is far above the average human."

"But still....what could possibly cause him to run that far away in just a few hours?"

"When we find him, we can ask him," Rukia said in determination. "There has to be a way to get there quickly, right?"

"Uh..." Ichigo paused and racked his brains. He'd been to that city before with friends; how had he gotten there? "There's a train," he said after a moment's thought. "But it'll stop running soon, I don't think we'll get all the way there. Maybe you could take a taxi or something, but that'd be expensive."

"Well, we'll take the train as far as we can first," Rukia decided. "Lead on...where is it?"

"Follow me," Ichigo said. "This way." And he headed off at a run, with Rukia right behind him, hoping the problem would be as easy to solve as that.

Ichigo wasn't a fool, though. Things rarely, if ever, went easy for him.

* * *

Kon snapped awake with loud, alarming suddenness. For a moment he panicked, and couldn't remember where he was. It was dark, making it impossible to see, and for one terrifying moment he was afraid that he was in his pill form again, devoid of all senses but hearing.

But after a few bare seconds--no time at all, but it seemed like an age--Kon became aware that he was not in a pill, or even a lion form, but a human body curled uncomfortably in a tiny, dark corner. Moments later his experiences came rushing back to him: the running, his arrival in the city, curling up in the alleyway to rest, and the invasive, sickening tracking magic that--

_--that he had just been woken up by._

He moved with shocking speed. Perhaps it was his instinct, or the residual muscle-memory instinct of Ichigo's, or maybe even a mix of both, but Kon had his legs under himself in seconds and had leapt fifteen feet into the air with a yell from a dead sit.

Just in time, too. With an almighty crack, something rammed into the brick wall where his back had been curled moments before, sending rubble and dust flying.

From his new vantage point, Kon had seen a glimmer of vague yellow crash into that corner, and traced it back to the alley's mouth. There, the second, smaller soul-reaper of his two pursuers was standing. The man had an object like a crossbow cradled in both hands, but like his partner's odd energy-katana, this too seemed a mere suggestion of a crossbow suffused with soft light.

Kon's leap reached its peak and he crashed back to the ground, absorbing the impact with his legs. They still felt shaky, but even a few hours of rest had done him wonders. Once again, he wasn't sure if that was due to Ichigo's tenacity or his own mod-soul powers. He'd never pushed them to their limits before, and honestly didn't know the full extent of what even he was capable of.

"How lame, Juusan," came a mocking voice, one Kon recognized all too well. The larger man, Shichi, stepped out of the shadows, his curious image-katana drawn and ready. "It was in a dead sleep and yah missed. How pathetic can you get?"

"Sh...shut up," the other man, Juusan, shot back harshly. "You're the idiot who decided t'seek it first! They're combat models, you moron...it probably felt it!"

_It_ had had enough. There was more room to maneuver in this alley vertically, and Kon had no intention of sticking around to be murdered. He didn't care what these idiots thought; he had a life, one given selfishly, but one they didn't have the right to take from him. It was _his_. He wouldn't give it up, not for anything.

So as they bickered, Kon abruptly darted forward, curled his legs under him, and with a roar leapt into the air once again.

He intended to leap over them, hit the streets, and run full-tilt down the road. He could jump the cars if he had to. The shinigami knew he was here, and his primary goal now was to just put some distance between him and them. If he scared a few humans by leaping to impossible heights, well, what the hell. Maybe Rukia-neesan would see the news report and figure out where he was. He'd take a tongue-lashing from her any day to this.

That was his intention, but the shinigami had other plans. With an angry "_No yah don't!_" Shichi leapt forward and upward, meeting Kon in the air before the mod-soul had leapt too high. The strange image-katana flashed out, humming wildly, and Kon felt the deadly heat approaching him at a dangerous speed.

There wasn't much he could do about it. He twisted, sending himself spinning in an attempt to pull away from the weapon, but his momentum kept him moving forward--straight into the blade. The almost-katana plunged deep into his shoulder--ironically, the same one that had taken damage all those months ago, when he had first stolen Ichigo's body. He could feel it gouging, clawing its way deep into his shoulder, _through_ it even. And even worse was the terrible heat, as though the very depths of hell had been encased within the blade. He could feel his soul, the very substance of his _being_, writhing in agony as the sword burned it, sliced into it, fractured it. The pain was unimaginable. All he could do was scream.

He hit the ground on his back with alarming suddenness; hadn't even been aware that he was falling. Shichi was laughing; he thought the other one might be too. His soul still burned, and he desperately wanted to writhe on the concrete, twist and scream in his pain, but he forced himself up. The pain only made him that much more aware that he _desperately did not want to die._

The wound wasn't all that bad, he realized, still gasping, after a cursory glance. Physically, at least. There was blood, but the wound itself was more superficial than anything. He didn't even think there was an exit wound. But his soul...by all that lived, his _spirit..._

"Hurts, huh?" Shichi asked with a grin. The man was behind him now, farther back down the alleyway, probably carried there from his own leap's momentum. "It's a special kinda soul-cutter, y'see. Only cuts _souls_, if y'know what I mean. We're approved soul-reapers, but we more or less work as bounty-hunters for you escaped modification-souls, so we were allowed to develop special tools to deal with y'all." His toothy grin grew larger.

Kon's eyes widened in fear. His right hand was pressed to the wound, fingers gouging into it as though trying to dig inside Ichigo's body to wherever his own soul was encapsulated and claw the pain out.

He was going to die. No, he wasn't. He had to get out of here. So much pain, though. No! Run! Run, dammit!

Shichi laughed, readied his sword again. "It's gettin' ready to bolt again," he warned his companion. "Keep an eye on it."

"You got it."

"No," Kon said out loud, a feeble whimper. He hadn't wanted to speak to them, not these people with such a callous disregard to life. These were the first words he had said to them, and they were a weak protest at best. But verbalizing his determination seemed to strengthen it, and he shouted it again, louder. "No! You can't take this away from me!"

"Body ain't yours!" Shichi roared back. But the soul-reaper had no idea that Kon was referring to something entirely different. He leapt forward, the image-katana raised once more, threatening, burning.

But Kon was ready, and his state of panic gave birth to desperate ideas. Darting aside, he leapt behind one of the dumpsters and kicked it with as much force as he could muster. It wasn't much heavier than a small hollow, and with a clattering loud enough to raise the dead it barreled towards a stunned Shichi. The man dodged with a yell of surprise.

Stunned by the noise, Juusan reflexively fired his image-crossbow. Still desperate, Kon leapt straight up, barely avoiding the attack. The energy-quarrel struck the rumbling dumpster instead, shattering the metal container and its disgusting contents with a shower of sparks. Juusan shrieked in both anger and surprise as he was pelted with garbage alongside his partner.

With their vision obscured and their minds distracted, neither noticed Kon land once more. He slipped on the refuse once or twice, cursing loudly. But he gained his legs quickly--thankfully, balance was another of the enhanced qualities awarded him--and dashed out of the alley-way. Before either of his pursuers could react, Kon was sprinting down the street, leaping from car to car, darting around corners at random, and generally putting as much distance as he could between himself and the hunters, for once ignoring the stunned stares of the night-life street crawlers that managed to spot him.

It would be a long time before he rested again.

* * *

Yes, I know, shorter than usual. Just trust me here, I know what I'm doing. I think.

As usual, if you leave a review, please make it constructive! What can I do to improve? What did you enjoy? I'm a glutton for constructive input, you know!

~VelkynKarma


	4. Chapter 4

**On the Run**

Part four of a fanfiction by Velkyn Karma

**Note: **Since my update schedule was changed I'll be updating Saturdays now instead. With luck.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own, or pretend to own, _Bleach _and any related characters or concepts. That right belongs to Tite Kubo alone. All that belongs to me here is the concept for the story.

* * *

"It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you. Are they really out to get us?"

~Monk, Black Order

* * *

"I don't believe it. I don't _believe_ it. He's _gone?_ Are you serious? You sure that thing's not faulty?"

Ichigo was furious. They had taken the train as far as they could before it shut down for the night, and then Rukia had been forced to call a taxi for the final hour's drive into the city. Both train-fare _and_ taxi-ride had been paid for with money from Ichigo's own wallet, which Rukia had stowed in her knapsack when they left. And now, after arriving in the city Kon was supposedly in at nearly one-thirty in the morning, they had arrived at an empty alleyway utterly devoid of mod-souls. Furthermore, Rukia had checked the modified soul-pager only to discover that Kon was far outside the city once again.

"It's not faulty," Rukia confirmed, looking grim. "Kon's not here. He's moving at a pretty rapid clip too. We wouldn't be able to catch up with him, not at the rate he's going." She eyed the device curiously, where the little blip was shooting across the screen at a stunning pace.

"You sure Hat-and-Clogs isn't just messing with us? I wouldn't put it past him," Ichigo said dubiously.

"I don't think he would, not in this case. He wasn't doing it as a favor, I was a paying customer." She scowled briefly at the pile of money she had been forced to part with in order to obtain the seeking device, and promised herself that Kon would _definitely_ be meeting her fist when they finally caught up to him.

"Besides," she added, "I can feel actual spirit-energy here, not Kon's other signature. The same seeking _kido_ was used here, and very recently...probably not more than two hours ago. And there's strange traces as well, I can't quite place them..." She paused, and knelt down in the alleys' corner, where a section of brick wall had been smashed beyond recognition. Her fingers brushed against the crumbling stone, and she frowned.

"What do you mean?" Ichigo pressed, curious.

"It...it feels almost like a soul-reaper's zanpaku-to," she admitted, "but not quite. There are...altercations. Very violent ones." Her eyes narrowed. "I don't know what it is, but it doesn't feel good."

"Then we better get moving again."

"I think that's a bad idea."

"How is it bad?" Ichigo growled. "If somebody can do _that_ to him-" here he pointed at the broken wall, "-then whoever's chasing him is dangerous. And _my_ body is gonna take the punishment! We should catch him early!"

But Rukia merely shook her head. "Kon is moving too quickly for us to catch him right now," she said again. "My guess is that they attacked him here, and he bolted. But if he settled down before, he will again. When he stops, we can find his new location and cut corners to catch him."

"Cut corners?"

"Look," she prompted, holding up the device again. The blip was still moving at a rapid speed, but it was now heading perpendicular to the direction it had been taking five minutes ago. "He's probably trying to throw off his attackers by shifting directions. It's a very common trick for hunted creatures. Don't foxes do it all the time?"

"What does this have to do with anything," Ichigo asked, exasperated.

"It means if we chase him now, we'll be on a wild goose chase until he finally settles down. But when he _does_ stop moving, he could be only an hour's drive from here. We can wait it out, and plan our next move according to where he comes to a halt to rest. He's in your body, after all-he has physical needs to deal with."

Ichigo groaned. "He'd better not mess me up."

Rukia ignored him and continued with her lecture. "In the meantime," she said, "let's find a cheap hotel or something where we can get a little rest. If this shinigami _is_ dangerous, we may be forced into combat before we can complete negotiations. In that situation it's best if you remain in top condition, just in case. And the same for myself, of course."

Ichigo eyed her warily. "You _sure_ that's the best way to deal with this? Can't we just track down the shinigami and deal with them instead?"

"It's a lot more complicated than that. Just trust me on this, Ichigo, okay?"

"Fine," he muttered. "But you'd better know what you're talking about."

"Don't I always?"

* * *

Kon guessed that he had slept for maybe four hours before his unexpected awakening. That meant he had been running since nearly midnight, and it was almost four-thirty in the morning now according to the digital bank clock he had passed a few minutes ago.

The mod-soul was positively exhausted.

Once again, he hadn't stopped running since his encounter. He had left the city he'd originally been in clear behind, running through more country, more suburbs, and another city. He was in a medium-sized town now, as far as he could tell. Nothing as big as Karakura, but large enough that he could probably lose himself in it, for a little while at least.

And he desperately needed that little while. Ichigo's body was telling him on no uncertain terms that it needed food and rest, immediately. His limbs were shaking, and his legs felt like jelly. His stomach had been painfully rumbling for most of the latest run, but in the past hour it had quieted up and ceased bothering him, a fact that somehow made him feel even more uncomfortable than before. He couldn't even muster up the energy to complain to himself, mutter to himself under his breath. He was desperate for real rest, but knew he couldn't afford more than an hour or two. After all, those two hunters had closed his massive lead within the four hours that he'd been sleeping.

Not only that, but his shoulder-wound from earlier still ached. Not the physical wound; that had stopped bleeding hours ago and was in relatively good condition. But he could still feel traces of the flaming agony as that sword pierced his very soul, and his entire being seemed to throb with it, as though it was trying to disassemble him and only his sheer will held himself together.

Once again he began almost desperately wishing that Rukia-neesan would show up and lecture him, or that Ichigo would show up and punch him out. At the very least, he knew neither of them would actually let those two bastards kill him. They respected him enough for that at least, even if they were cruel to him in every other sense of the word...

He stumbled along until he was nearly ready to collapse. The wound throbbed, and he did his best to ignore it. Even with his powerful legs, he could barely manage more than a walk. When he caught his reflection in a store-front window he was nearly appalled at what he saw. He already barely recognized Ichigo, whose face now had deep bags under both eyes and a beaten, almost zombie-like appearance. Kon grudgingly admitted he could probably be attributed to part of that. While he could likely spend months in Ichigo's body if he had to, it would only be without taxing it. While employing his full range of strength on a nearly constant basis, it was bound to put a lot of spiritual strain on the host body in addition to the physical stress.

He couldn't go on forever, and he knew it. He could only hope he could outlast his pursuers.

The thought made his legs tremble violently, and the wound razed at him as though laughing, but he wasn't ready to give in just yet. Half-walking, half-shuffling his way to the downtown district, he peeked hungrily into the few restaurants he could spot. None of them were open this early in the morning, but Kon still couldn't afford them anyway. Instead, he stumbled around the back of one of the store-fronts, found a dumpster with food in relatively good condition, and helped himself. Ichigo would probably bypass the two hunters to kill Kon himself when he figured out the mod-soul's joyride included dumpster-diving, but Kon was too hungry and in too much pain to care by this point.

When he had filled himself as much as he was able, he cut a strip of Ichigo's shirt free with a sharp piece of glass he found behind the dumpster and used it to bind his shoulder as best as he could. It wasn't perfect, but at least it would hold the blood in if he strained himself and opened the wound once more. The makeshift bandage did nothing for his soul, however, and he winced repeatedly every time the wound bit at him, groaned in pain and wasted his precious breath despite his exhaustion.

When food and injury were taken care of, Kon tried once again to rest. This time, he shuffled through the town until he found a location with multiple exits, so that he could escape no matter what direction the two of them came from-because he knew without a doubt they would come again. They didn't seem able to find him unless they used their locating spell, which would give him at the very least a few moment's warning, but he wanted as many other plans as possible. In the end he chose the town's park. It was open, had a low fence that wouldn't block him in even with a half-hearted jump, and possessed large trees with ample cover in the foliage. He leapt up into one of the higher but still sturdy branches, miserably curled up, and fell into a weak doze.

He didn't sleep as deeply as he did last time. Indeed, he could hardly call it a rest. Ichigo's body was practically unresponsive, slipping gratefully into an unmoving, restful state. But its pilot, Kon, remained mentally active almost the entire time. He was too afraid to sleep. The moment he let his mental processes slip into what would be considered 'sleep' for a mod-soul, he was positive the pursuers would show up and trap him. He was already wounded, hungry, and tired; but the lower he went into the bowels of hell, the more he understood with absolute certainty that he desperately did _not_ want to relinquish his tentative hold on life.

Not only that, but in this half-aware, semi-unconscious state, Kon was more aware than ever of the damage that strange sword had caused to his very being. Before, it had felt like being disassembled. But half-asleep, he could envision his soul-fabric more like a glass pane, with cracks spider-webbing out in increasingly more intricate and wide-spread patterns. Just one hit, and not even a direct hit, had made his soul-the only part of him that really existed in an absolute sense-such a fragile, breakable thing. He dreaded the thought of what would happen if that sword made a solid attack against him.

He wondered, briefly, what would happen if he died.

Would he go to the Soul Society, like normal humans did upon their deaths? He was a soul, after all, if an artificial one.

Or would he simply cease to exist? Somehow, that thought positively terrified him. He didn't want to just..._end._ He wanted to see more of life. He wanted to experience his _own_ life, unusual though it was, because it was _his._

He mentally shuddered. Ichigo's body, sensing its current pilot's distress, replicated it physically.

In the end, Kon only rested for two hours. He could tell from the chiming of a clock-seven in the morning-and the way the sun had risen, bathing the world in new, gentle light. After that, he was afraid to stay put any longer. He hadn't sensed anything from either of the shinigami, but he wasn't willing to risk another encounter with them.

He wished he knew where he was now.

But he couldn't do anything about that. With an exhausted sigh, he rolled out of the tree, dropped to the ground, and stretched his limbs. They still felt weak, shaky, but even two hours of rest and the food now in his body had done wonders for them. He could keep going for a few more hours.

Grimacing, Kon stretched, straightened, and jogged off once more to anywhere but there.

* * *

Another short one, I know. I promise you, the next chapter is considerably longer and much more action packed.

As always, please let your reviews be constructive! I like good solid feedback, and to hear your opinions.

~VelkynKarma


	5. Chapter 5

**On the Run**

Part five of a fanfiction by Velkyn Karma

**Disclaimer: **I do not own, or pretend to own, _Bleach _and any related characters or concepts. That right belongs to Tite Kubo alone. All that belongs to me here is the concept for the story.

* * *

"Somebody save me

Somebody save me

Please don't erase me!"

~_Save Me, _Shinedown

* * *

Two more days of running had passed since Kon had his last encounter with the hunting duo, bringing his total of days on the run up to three. They were three of the most miserable days Kon had ever spent since his days of waiting to die in the Soul Society. And in some ways, they were so much the same it was positively terrifying.

Kon had been forced to remain constantly on the move, or risk discovery. He had adopted the same routine he'd used that first night, the only one that had been remotely successful. He would run non-stop for four to five hours, sometimes doubling back or twisting randomly in the hopes of throwing off the trail.

When he could finally push himself no more-something that happened more and more frequently-he would make his way into a well sized town or city, locate the food district, and help himself from the dumpsters as best he could. Once, one old lady had even taken pity on him and bought him a small but hot meal from a nearby stand. It was just a bowl of noodles, but Kon had nearly cried when she offered it to him, and demolished it in bare seconds. He never knew hunger could be like this, but after only a few days he had discovered how terrible it really was.

When he had eaten as much as he could hold from whatever seemed edible and didn't smell too terrible, he would hunt through his latest location until he found a place with at least three or more escape exits. He favored parks, especially; something about being surrounded by living things comforted him, if only slightly. He avoided alleys when he stayed in the cities, except when collecting food, and instead made his rest-stops memorial centers and open downtown areas.

He never slept for more than a few hours, and in truth only Ichigo's body really 'slept.' Kon could have used the rest, but each time he felt himself drifting off he needed only the throbbing pain of his injury-dulled somewhat, but still violently present-as a reminder of what such foolishness could bring. He only stopped long enough to allow Ichigo's body to distribute much-needed food energy and to rest for a few needed hours before he pushed himself onward.

Even with all his precautions, there were far too many close calls. Many times a day he could feel the presence of the shinigami too close for comfort, and he had come to recognize their signatures well. Worse, he could often feel the fringes of their seeking-spell, terrifyingly close, caressing him like a breeze that carried a foul taint. Whenever he felt the invasive, disturbing sensation he dropped whatever he was doing-be it feeding or sleeping; he could devote time to little else now-turned, and ran in the opposite direction of the spell for as long as he could manage.

He looked terrible. He should say, rather, that Ichigo looked terrible, but Ichigo wasn't there right now. Just him, and this body that was temporarily his. Ichigo's eyes-his eyes-were already sunken and dead-looking from hunger and exhaustion. He was already thinner, from expending more energy than he could take in, on almost no rest. His cheekbones were more prominent than before. His shirt and pants were dirty and torn from sleeping in the gutter, on the streets, under bushes in the dirt, not to mention the blood-stains from his first encounter with his pursuers. Initially he had talked to himself to stave off some of the boredom and terror, but as the days passed he spoke up less and less, falling into a tired, exhausted silence. Funnily enough, when he could muster any expression at all-which was rare-it was usually Ichigo's trademark frown. He didn't know if it was muscle memory on the part of the body, or if it was his own frown being replicated onto it from his absolute misery. But if it was the latter, Kon would love to know what depths of hell Ichigo had gone to in order to earn that perma-scowl.

Once, when Kon had been too terrified to sleep, when the wound throbbed at him too badly for even Ichigo's body to rest, he had scrounged around the downtown district he'd been in at the time until he found a few coins. These he used at a pay phone he'd located, recalling Ichigo's home phone number from memory and sheer force of will. He'd tried calling, disguising Ichigo's voice-which was also borrowed-in order to ask if Ichigo Kurosaki was available. Yuzu, who had answered, told him that Ichigo had gone to a friend's house for a few days and wasn't available. Would he like to leave a message, Mr.-? Kon had hung up quickly, feeling more desperate and oddly reassured at the same time.

Ichigo wasn't home. That meant he knew about Kon's disappearance, had made an excuse for it, and was out...maybe looking for him. Kon hoped desperately he was being looked for. He'd never run away again if they'd just find him and save him from this horrible nightmare.

Kon's life fell into monotonous misery. He felt as if he acted more mechanically than anything else. At one point he dully wondered if he was even capable of such operation only because he was a mod-soul. Would a human be able to keep up like this? He wasn't sure. Sometimes he would wonder if he running was even worth it, but every time his indomitable will, his desperation to hold onto his own life and choose to do what he will with it, won through and smothered his darker thoughts.

And then, just as his life had slid into a nearly inescapable, torturous rhythm, it happened.

The seekers, Shichi and Juusan, had closed in on him early. They must have cut sideways and beat him to the suburbs he was presently in, because Kon had barely arrived in the little town when he began to feel that probing, terrifying kido at work. After nearly three full days of running, he was becoming less unpredictable, easier to track and potentially ambush. If he survived, he had to remember to do something about that.

No, not if he survived. He _would_ survive. There was no way he would give up here, not now.

But his body was truly exhausted, at its limits. He had run for three hours (he could no longer keep up a solid five like he could two days ago). Ichigo's weakening frame begged for sustenance and for rest, but he couldn't afford to give it, not with those tendrils of seeking power slithering ever closer. So he staggered into the town, plowed into the middle of a crowd-it was afternoon, and the schools were just letting out-and desperately hoped that the pressures of even normal human beings could help shield his own weakened one.

He could feel the seeking kido sweeping ever nearer, dangerously close to his position. And he could feel the presences of the two shinigami, within ten yards of him, looming ever closer like ominous shadows. He was hidden in the crowd, crouching behind one statue pretending to be a tourist reading the dedication, but if they came even slightly nearer they would have him.

And then...like a force of pressure, bursting against his weakening heart, he felt it. Far away, on the other side of the town...a hollow was manifesting.

The shinigami froze. The seeking spell abruptly vanished. Kon held his breath, trembling visibly, and fought with himself to keep from jumping when he heard a voice mere feet away.

"Hollow, Shichi."

"I know! I can sense it well enough."

"This is an unclassified location. Too remote normally for hollows to come here. No other shinigami's gonna report for it."

"Tch...how irritating. Well, let's go get it then."

"We _are_ very close though. D'you think we should just leave it here now?"

"What the hell does it matter? It's a _mod-soul_. The things are too stupid to keep it up for long. We've already seen it starting to weaken. We'll have it eventually."

"If you say so."

The voices faded, and Kon, feeling sick from a combination of fatigue, hunger and pain, had to fight the urge to start sobbing with every aspect of his being. So close, so close to death again, just like when he had barely escaped last time too, and all out of sheer _luck_...for the first time in his entire existence, he was thankful for the appearance of a hollow.

The body protested when he pulled himself up. Ichigo's body couldn't take much more of this torment, not without rest. But he had to move on; he couldn't stay here. It wouldn't take them long to kill the hollow once it manifested, and he had to be out of this town before they did. So he struggled to his feet, told himself to just keep moving for _just a little more_, and half-jogged, half-stumbled out of town, fighting for every step with his very desire to live.

* * *

Two days. _Two days_ had passed since they had started tracking Kon from that first city, and for two days they hadn't seen hide nor hair of him or his stolen body. The mod-soul was really beginning to piss Ichigo off. Did he think he was on a joyride? Did he not realize they were out looking for him, and that he was only making things more difficult? He supposed if those two shinigami were still chasing him, it might cause a few problems, but that didn't stop him from being irritated with the artificial soul all the same.

That first night-or morning by then-they had come very close to catching him and ending everything then and there. They'd slept for about five hours in a cheap motel room, waiting for Kon to run himself down and hole up in a new city or town. Rukia had eaten a cheap meal as well, keeping up her gigai's strength, and though Ichigo didn't neat to eat in his soul-reaper form he nevertheless felt grateful for a little rest.

At six-thirty in the morning Rukia and her unseen shinigami companion checked out of the motel. Rukia reported excitedly that Kon was once again stationary in a small town only an hour and a half from their present location, and gave Ichigo a triumphant smirk. He admitted grudgingly that she'd had the right idea, and they had hastily tracked down a train heading in that direction.

But her grin of triumph turned to dismay after only a half hour. Checking her altered soul-pager, Rukia had been appalled to see Kon on the move again, heading even farther away from them than before and in a completely different direction. They'd been forced to get off the train early, double back to the city's station, and try a new line. By the time they were on track once again, Kon had hopelessly outdistanced them.

From there, the next two days had been much of the same. Kon's movements were sporadic and unpredictable, with no real discernible pattern. He seemed to run for several hours, rest for a few in a random city or town, and then repeat the process. But beyond that, it was impossible to figure out what the mod-soul might try next. To be honest, both of them doubted that even Kon knew what he was doing. It wouldn't have bugged Ichigo so much, except that Kon didn't know what he was doing _in Ichigo's body_, and that was a surefire way to get it damaged or even killed entirely by accident.

But finally, after two days of chasing with nothing to show for it, their luck turned. It was mid-afternoon, and they had just barely arrived at an almost city-like town. Rukia had been studying the seeker-device intently earlier that day, and on impulse had decided to head for this town instead of the one that Kon appeared to be just leaving at the time.

"What for?" Ichigo had asked irritably.

"He's becoming less tricky," Rukia had said with a frown in response. "The past two runs he made have been relatively straight, not as many turns. I think he'll probably head here-see, there's one road that just goes straight to it, it just curves is all."

It was better than any plan he could offer, and so they had hopped a train and arrived in mid-afternoon. Luckily, Rukia's guess had been correct-Kon was making a beeline for the city they were in, and was due to arrive in about twenty minutes to half an hour. They would finally, finally catch him.

And then, as though fate was gleefully enjoying messing with their heads, Rukia's _other_ pager beeped. She flipped it out and examined the latest message while Ichigo said, "What? A hollow? Not _now_, we don't have time for it now!"

"Sorry," she said grimly, looking uncomfortable. "But it is. A hollow, estimated to arrive in fifteen minutes. It's on the other side of the town."

"Isn't there a shinigami here who can take care of it? We're not even in your district anymore!"

"This is an uncontested area," Rukia admitted glumly. "The spiritual pressure here is usually too low to attract hollows, so no reaper was ever assigned here. It's probably arriving because of us."

"Damn it!"

"If we hurry quickly, you can still beat it and get back," Rukia said urgently. "Kon usually stays in the cities for at least a couple of hours, it'll give us plenty of time to find him." She was already pushing him in the direction of the hollow, and he gave in, deciding not to fight her. As she said, the faster they wiped it out, the faster they could get back to business.

They reached the predicted location just in time, as the hollow-an oddly birdlike one this time-tore itself free from the air. It screeched and launched itself at Ichigo, but compared to some other hollows he had fought in the past this one was incredibly weak. After only a few more passes he managed to split its head and send it disintegrating into the afterlife.

"Okay, that's done," the temporary soul reaper said with an impatient grimace. "Now, where is-"

"Ah! Juusan, d'you see it? It's a shinigami, another shinigami!"

Stunned, Ichigo whipped around and stared at the two figures approaching him. Both were dressed in the same robes as himself. One was tall, muscular, and very tan, while the other was thinner and paler. Both had friendly grins on their faces, touched slightly with danger, but Ichigo wasn't terribly afraid of them. For one thing, as soon as they reached him-passing by Rukia completely, who was unexpectedly pretending she couldn't see them like a normal human-they bowed politely.

"We thought this was uncontested territory, weren't expecting to see another shinigami here," the taller of the pair explained. "Much less a member of the squads. You _are_ from one of the squads, right?"

Ichigo opened his mouth to ask just what the hell it was they were talking about. Behind the pair, Rukia's eyes widened and she waved her hands wildly, then flashed a number of fingers at him-thirteen.

Picking up on her hint, Ichigo shifted gears quickly. "Ah...yes. The thirteenth squad. I'm, uh, here on...business." The pair seemed satisfied, and a relieved expression flitted across Rukia's face.

"It's always business, ain't it?" the taller one chortled, elbowing his companion. "Well, sir, I'm Shichi, and this here is Juusan. We're both Acting Shinigami. Here's our Seals, just to cover all the legal bases, y'know?" They both held up strange, triangle shaped badges with odd bug-like skulls printed on them in front of an 'x' shape.

Once again, Ichigo opened his mouth to ask what exactly they were talking about, but stopped when Rukia gestured frantically over their shoulders. Instead, he said lamely, "Ah...that...that all seems to be in order then."

"I'll say. Hey, don't he seem a bit_ twitchy_ Juusan?"

"He does. Looks awful familiar, too."

Ichigo's heart dropped to his stomach. He had a bad feeling he knew what that meant.

"Ah, you're right! Can't believe I didn't see it before, with that head'o'hair. Definitely looks like our escaped artificial soul, huh?"

Ichigo had been right. _These_ were the assholes that had been tracking Kon-in his body!-all over the damn country for the past two days. He'd been feeling quite pissed off with them of late, both for leading them all on this stupid chase, and for trying to take a life that wasn't theirs. Without even thinking about it, his hand flew up to the hilt of his zanpaku-to over his shoulder.

Rukia let out a squeal of warning, wide-eyed and panicked. Startled, both of the shinigami spun to face her. But Rukia was too quick. Jumping up and down and clapping excitedly, the reaper exclaimed, "I can't wait to tell Orihime I saw this district! She told me it was great, but I never knew before!"

Shichi laughed. "Humans are such a riot."

"Has no idea she's in the middle of a very important meeting, now does she?" Juusan added with a snicker. Then he turned back to Ichigo, who had used the distraction to curb his anger and drop his hand from his sword-hilt, and added, "What're ya so twitchy for, sir?"

"Ah...n-nothing," Ichigo said shortly. And then, on sudden inspiration, he added, "You saw that mod-soul?"

"That's right."

"Plain as day. We've been tracking him for the past two days."

"Well, that's what I'm here for," Ichigo said, plan solidifying in his mind. Rukia gave him a warning look, but this time he knew what he was doing. "That stupid soul stole my gigai! I've been trying to get it back for a while now."

The acting-reapers burst into laughter. "How embarassin'!" Shichi said, with a wide grin. "But those machine-souls _are_ pretty good at workin' themselves into a body. And we should know, we've been huntin'em for years, it's a bit of a specialty of ours."

"Yeah, well," Ichigo growled warningly, "if you see him, you call me first. I don't need that gigai getting damaged, you know how hard they are to replace." They nodded knowingly, and Ichigo silently thanked Rukia for her occasional past rants about her own sometimes-failing gigai.

"And I'd like to deal with that mod-soul myself, for causing me all this trouble," Ichigo added. It was also true, he admitted to himself. He had one hell of a plan ready for Kon when they finally got him back, which included liberal amounts of yelling, kicking, and throwing him at the wall. The little bastard.

"Well, sir," Juusan said, nodding respectfully, "We'll do what we can to keep your gigai intact. It must be a real hassle to lose Society-assigned goods."

"But, we're sorry sir," Shichi added. "It might already be a little worse for the wear, see."

Ichigo frowned. "What do you mean?"

The two broke into identical grins, tinged with wickedness. "Well, y'see," Juusan began, "we already told ya we're experienced with hunting mod-souls, and there's specific ways to deal with them."

"As far as we can tell it's an underpod type, see," Shichi continued, picking up where the other had left off. "Y'know, enhanced lower body strength?"

"And you can't catch one of _those_ by just beating it into submission."

"That's right. They're runners. If they want to outrun you, they will; they'll always be faster."

"So, you gotta _run'em down_, see? Just keep dogging them, and keep 'em runnin', don't let'em stop to rest."

"They're usually not used to the strain of a physical body. Eventually they can't handle their abilities without food or sleep and they run themselves into the ground."

"And then you bag'em!"

"And we got especially lucky. We caught this one off guard, it was trying to sleep, the li'l bastard. So I stuck it with my sword, see." Shichi unsheathed his weapon and proudly held it up for Ichigo to inspect. It was like the vague suggestion of a katana, not a real zanpaku-to, and tinged with an ugly red. Even from this distance he could feel the heat of it. The teenager eyed it with disgust, but thankfully managed to cover his distaste with his usual scowl. "So yer gigai's got a mite injury, sir, sorry about that...but the injury to that mod-soul's spirit is way worse."

"Yeah, with that one shot we probably cut his running time down to half!"

"Haha! Yer right. Obnoxious little bastards. If the Society says die, you die. Why can't they just roll over belly-up and accept it, eh? But maybe they're too stupid to realize real souls are superior...I mean, they're only artificial."

"Haha, good one! True though."

Rukia had wandered a way a few paces to keep up her tourist act, but gave Ichigo a warning look once more over her shoulder. Ichigo saw it, but nearly launched himself at these two reprehensible soul reapers anyway. As if it were only yesterday, he could hear Kon's pleading voice: _I exist! I should at least have the right to live and die freely!_ And layered on top of that, Shichi's cutting words, _If the Society says die, you die. Why can't they just accept that?_

It took all his willpower not to sweep his zanpaku-to free and take a swing at them, but he did it. Rukia seemed adamant on avoiding confrontation, and she knew best when it came to soul reapers...but he would be digging an explanation out of her later.

Instead, he just said, "Yeah, well...if you manage to catch him before I do, _call me first_. That's an order. I want to deal with that thief personally, and I'd like to examine my gigai as well."

"No problem, boss!"

"We'll do what we can."

"We should get moving, though," Shichi added, glancing up at the sky. "We were pretty close to catchin' him here, but then the hollow signal showed up. Figured we'd better deal with it, since nobody was in the area. But I'm sure he felt us and bolted by now." He laughed. "They're so flighty."

"Yeah," Ichigo grimaced. "You do that. Us too. Later." And without a backward glance he strode off, hearing only the slap of sandals behind him as the other two darted off and disappeared.

Rukia approached him when they were finally out of sight. With a glare, he turned to her and hissed, "What was that all about, huh? You heard what they're doing. We could have put a stop to it there!"

"It's complicated..."

"Well, start explaining."

Rukia sighed. "Very well," she said, and began.

* * *

Yet another installment of this very bizarre story.

As usual, if you have an opinion on this story, please let me know! I enjoy constructive criticism; it really does help me grow.

~VelkynKarma


	6. Chapter 6

**On the Run**

Part six of a fanfiction by Velkyn Karma

**Disclaimer: **I do not own, or pretend to own, _Bleach _and any related characters or concepts. That right belongs to Tite Kubo alone. All that belongs to me here is the concept for the story.

* * *

"Don't run, you'll only die tired."

~Army snipers

* * *

Half a day later, only a little while after the sun had completely set, Kon was ready to curse himself with his own stupidity.

He still didn't know where he was, in the grand scheme of things. All he knew was that three and a half days ago he'd left Karakura, and now he was somewhere else entirely. It was another city, or at any rate a huge town, that reminded him of the one he called home.

But he'd been foolish in getting there. Unlike his first day of running, in which he zigzagged, doubled back, took random turns, and did anything he could to throw his trail off, he'd simply run straight along the road from one town to the city, not even bothering to hide his trail. And when he'd arrived, he'd unhesitatingly gone for the food district, scrounging for scraps that he desperately needed.

What had he said about avoiding ambush? He'd run into it like a damn fool. Of course it was predictable; he went in a straight line, and the shinigami knew he needed to eat. He was loosing focus, becoming far too easy to figure out, and it was going to kill him.

Possibly entirely literally. He hadn't even noticed them until it was too late, because they didn't use their seeker kido. Perhaps they had finally figured out this was what tipped him off to their presence, but this time they had simply lain in wait at the food district and watched him stumble drunkenly to the nearest food-dumpster he could find. It was easy to cut off his escape. The dumpsters were in the alleyway, after all.

Kon wasn't even sure how he survived the initial attack. Perhaps some shred of instinct was left in his mind, or Ichigo's body, that hadn't been swallowed by the desperate, mechanical need to run, sleep, and eat. He dodged Shichi's image-sword swing, barely, and stumbled backwards. His legs, once so powerful and deadly, collapsed underneath him, unable to hold even his own weight.

Shichi leapt forward in triumph, raised the strange red energy-katana high as though to stab down at him viciously, leaning over him. Kon saw the sword raising high, like a guillotine, saw his own death reflected in Shichi's. The shoulder-wound burned, screaming, eating away at his spiritual insides, tearing him to pieces as it resonated with the weapon so close, so very close, _too_ close.

And then Kon's very last shred of will rose to the surface. He had one more chance; one chance filled with panic, terror, desperation, and above all desire, but a chance nonetheless. As Shichi raised the blade high, Kon screamed-loudly, wildly through Ichigo's parched, cracked throat, a mixed sound of anger, fear, and will-and kicked, with all the strength he could muster, straight up into the man's body.

Compared to some of Kon's other kicks in previous months, against varying hollows, this one was nearly powerless. But that was not to say it was completely ineffective, for it was also fueled with pure desperation, the desire to live above all else, and Kon found unexpected strength where he hadn't in days. Ichigo's foot, enhanced with his own spirit, found the man's chest and kept going. There was a horrific _crack_, and Shichi fell back with a shriek, collapsing to the ground. He didn't move again.

Terror welled up inside Kon's mind. Even now, even with them trying to steal his life away, his mind desperately repeated _please don't let him be dead, please, please,_ over and over. The body had other ideas. Fueled by desire and piloted by instinct, Ichigo's body picked itself up, scrabbling weakly to its feet, and darted for the exit to the alley, still running off the unexpected energy surge he had gained from who only knew where. Juusan let him pass, throwing aside his weapon as he darted forward to tend to his wounded companion.

_Please don't let him be dead._

He was running, and he didn't even know where anymore. All he knew was that he was moving, and he just had to _keep_ moving. If he stopped, he would think about what he might have just done. If he stopped, he knew he wouldn't get this exhausted, nearly broken body moving again. If he stopped, he would succumb to his pain, his hunger, his fear, and his exhaustion.

If he stopped, he would die.

* * *

Hours later they were still tracking Kon, but Ichigo felt much more subdued now. Before, it had felt a little too much like Kon's previous jaunt out in his body; annoying, but not life threatening.

But now, after their encounter with the two hunters, and Rukia's explanations, the whole situation felt that much worse. This wasn't a stupid prank or annoying game on Kon's part. This was really, truly dangerous, and Kon's very existence-not to mention the health of his own physical body-was at risk.

Ichigo still wanted to pound Shichi and Juusan's faces in, just to make himself feel better, but understood the necessity of not taking that course of action...much as it pained him to do so. Rukia had explained the need for diplomacy to the best of her ability (thankfully without her imagery to accompany it).

_"They're employed by the Soul Society," _she had explained a few hours ago, as they began to track Kon once more. To save on funds, once they knew which direction to take they had picked a train and ridden on it's surface instead of inside, but neither had minded. _"The badges that they showed you are called 'Seals of Approval for Acting Shinigami.' They're not official shinigami in the sense that they haven't passed through the Academy, and they don't use quite the same abilities that we do. But the Society recognizes them as capable of completing shinigami tasks, and offers them the badges as a license."_

_"So they're not real shinigami?"_ Ichigo had asked, confused.

_"Not exactly. That's why they were deferring to you so much. Acting Shinigami almost always have a rank lower than even the lowest of the Academy-trained reapers."_

_"So, what the hell? If they're not even soul-reapers, why can't I just trash'em and be done with it?"_

_"It's not that easy,"_ Rukia had explained in frustration. _"They're not official, but they still_ report _to the Soul Society. Imagine if you beat them and we recovered Kon that way. They would still go back to the Society and report it. The Society would inevitably investigate, and then not only would Kon be found and destroyed anyway, but you would be in trouble for impersonating a shinigami, and I could get in trouble too."_

_"So...messing with them at all could cause us all to get in trouble in the long run."_

_"That's what I'm saying. That's why we need to find a way out of this without dragging the Society into it."_

That conversation had happened a while ago, but it still grated on Ichigo's nerves. So far he'd been able to solve most of their shinigami-related problems through combat. If he couldn't fight them to save Kon and protect his own body, then what the hell was he supposed to do?

Rukia jumped up abruptly, pointing at the modified soul-pager and shouting over the roar of the train they rode atop. "He's shifting again!" She yelled. "He stopped in that city for barely five minutes. He's heading west now."

"So what now?" Ichigo shouted back, eyes narrowed.

"We're getting off here! He looks like he's heading in a straight line. If we jump now and head north-west, we should be able to cut him off in a little bit. He's moving a lot slower now, not at all his usual speed."

Ichigo barely hesitated. Rukia clung to his shoulders in a rough piggy-back and he leapt from the train, landing in the barren, open land they had been moving past for some time now. He kept running with her still on his back while she fiddled with the device in his ear, much to his annoyance.

"You think we can catch him?" He asked abruptly. "Even with his speed?"

"Like I said...he's not moving as fast as he had been. And based on the strategy those two said they were using, I'm not surprised. Sleep-deprivation, starvation, and they've injured him at least once...even with a mod-soul, and even in your body, nobody could last under those conditions forever. He's been more predictable of late, and he's been moving slower and for less time too...everything is taking its toll now." She frowned, and looked a little disgusted and a little worried at the same time.

Ichigo said nothing, but notably pushed himself for extra speed. No one could last forever; but they had to hope he lasted long enough for them to get there.

* * *

Kon hadn't stopped, not for nearly half an hour since that encounter. He was afraid of what would happen if he did.

He was at the outskirts of the city now, a roughly suburban area that would soon turn into a long country lane, if the way the buildings were spread out was any indication. He'd told himself that if he could reach that lane, he was set. On a straight road like that, he'd always been able to all-out sprint, eating up the miles and rapidly putting distance between himself and his pursuers. If he could get just a little distance, he could sleep for a while.

_Sleep._ He wanted it bad, so, so bad. He wanted to just drop where he was now, and just let himself fall into oblivion. If he did, though, he knew he would never get up again, and he couldn't afford that, not yet, not yet...

He was bearing right, towards the country lane, when he felt the first fringes of the locating spell once again. It, too, was on his right, in the direction he was heading. Panicky, he immediately turned off course, heading for a second road in a different direction. But here, too, the seeker kido made itself present, fingers reaching out for him like claws, searching, grasping. He veered away form this too, and half-stumbled, half-ran between them in a desperate effort to remain out of both search-spells' sights.

A very, very tiny part of his mind, the part that he had drawn so much of his will from before, told him he was being herded. He understood this, vaguely, and yet there was nothing else he could do. Couldn't stand and fight. Couldn't turn around. Couldn't lay down and die. All he could do was run, and run as far from the searching spells as he could.

And then, unexpectedly, he was _there._ The open ground was before him; no longer were there buildings, hills, or cars in his way, just an open stretch where he could unleash his full speed unhindered. Part of his mind screamed at him, _Why would they want to herd you there?_ But he was too far gone to care anymore, and with the last of his strength he launched himself forward into as fast a sprint as he was capable of.

He understood the trap with unexpected despair when a lance of fiery, burning, life-shattering pain ripped through his leg. He looked down, hazy, bewildered, to discover one of the strange image-quarrels had punctured his leg. Only then did he really understand. Not only was open space good for him and his speed, but for a ranged shooter and their weapon.

A second bolt slammed into his wounded shoulder, causing him to shriek loudly, wildly, despairingly. Within moments he had slammed into the ground, jarring Ichigo's body painfully, and suddenly he knew he was at his limit. He had no more will, no more strength. The body had nothing left to give. His pursuers had finally outsmarted him, caught him. He could see them both approaching him now, both alive, out of the corner of one hazy-visioned eye.

He was going to die.

The thought felt like an admission of defeat, but he had nothing left to give. He'd lost. That was all there was to it. The shinigami were shrieking at him now; he thought Shichi might be kicking him, but he couldn't be sure. Well, at least he hadn't killed the man...

His last clear thought was that if his family-and he supposed they really were a family-could see him now, they'd be furious at seeing him give up so quickly. "Well, I tried," he muttered tiredly, and waited patiently for the darkness to come.

* * *

They hadn't been running for long when Rukia suddenly gasped. He had set her down some ten minutes ago, once she had re-confirmed their course with the modified soul-pager, and now she was running alongside him. Now she abruptly froze.

"What?" he said in surprise, doubling back. "What is it?"

"Those other two!" Rukia said sharply. "They're close I can feel them converging as well. There." She pointed. The terrain they were in was a bit hilly and rocky, and she was gesturing over one of the hills to some location he couldn't see.

"Kon's there too?"

"I'm pretty sure," Rukia confirmed, after glancing at the device's screen again. "Still moving too slow for Kon. And the others are gaining."

"Damn." Ichigo turned in the new direction and made to run, but Rukia grabbed his sleeve quickly and stopped him.

"Wait!" She said sharply, holding out the strange glove she still sometimes used to knock him out of his body when Kon's pill wasn't readily available. "Take this, just in case. You might need it."

"Right." He snatched it quickly, stuffed it inside his robes, and then took off at full speed, quickly outdistancing Rukia behind himself.

A rather large hill was in his way, and it took a few minutes to climb it, even going at the speed he was. When he finally crested it, he sighed in relief, glanced around quickly...and stared.

It was funny, really. After tracking Kon for three days, _knowing_ the mod-soul was in his body, it was still an otherworldly experience to see _himself _pelting full-speed down the lone road stretched out over the countryside. He was still a good distance away, but Ichigo could already tell it was him from his own orange hair.

Strange, though; Kon was only running at the average speed for a human, and he seemed to be stumbling with alarming regularity. If nothing else, Ichigo had to admit that when it came to speed, jumping, and balance, Kon could be oddly skilled and surprisingly graceful, but he wasn't exhibiting any of that now.

Ichigo began picking his way down the hill, much rockier on this side, glancing up every once and a while to keep an eye on Kon's progress. Kon moved like a possessed thing (which Ichigo supposed he was, in a way), but was at least doggedly moving forward, even if he looked ready to collapse at any moment.

And then Ichigo saw the two hunters appear far back along the road, and he realized things had gotten much more dangerous, fast.

It was too far away for him to see their faces, but the larger of the pair-crap, what had his name been? Seven?-gesturing wildly, and figured the man was angry. Angry enough to disobey what he was assumed was a direct order from the Soul Society, apparently, because he gestured to the smaller one, who leveled something like a gun or a bow at Kon and fired.

Ichigo saw a flash of yellow, and a spurt of blood seemed to erupt from his-Kon's-_their_ leg. A second strange flash of yellow caused another burst of blood from their shoulder not two seconds later. Kon stumbled, emitted an almighty, spine-chilling _shriek_, and hit the ground with a thud. His uninjured arm scrabbled weakly, tiredly, but Kon himself did not try to push the body to its feet to continue.

He'd given up, Ichigo realized with a bewildered sort of horror. Whatever had happened to him in the past few days, it had been enough to make him finally give up on his overwhelming desire to live.

The thought spurred him on all the faster, but he knew he wouldn't make it to Kon first. Shichi and Juusan were already there, crouching over the body, and Shichi's sword was out. He wouldn't make it, and it sent a surge of angry frustration through him.

But luck was, stunningly, on his side. The approved-reaper didn't move immediately for the kill. Instead, he was kicking Ichigo's body, and its current pilot, lividly. Ichigo was close enough to see the man's angry expression, hear his angry ranting, though neither of them had noticed him yet.

"You_ stupid soul!_ You stupid _fake soul!_ How _dare_ you attack a superior being like that! You should've just rolled over and died days ago, what the _hell_ were you doing, attacking to kill, _I'll kill you!"_

"Shichi!" The other one yelped, startled. "We're not supposed to damage the shinigami's gigai!"

"As if I care! He can get another. This thing has to know pain, has to _die!_" Now he was raising the sword, angrily, as though to kill, holding the red image-blade above Kon's neck like a condemned man at the chopping block. Kon didn't so much as twitch.

But Ichigo was close enough now, and he refused to let that sword-blade fall. With a roar he swept his own giant zanpaku-to free, sent it flashing up, cutting through and shattering the red image-katana with a sudden cracking noise. And then he was standing over his own body, and Kon's weakened soul, sword still drawn and crouched defensively.

* * *

Updates will be slow from now on. For one thing, I'm on vacation. For another, I've run out of buffer. And for a third, it's a low priority, as I can't seem to tell if people are still interested. I haven't received any feedback in a while.

~VelkynKarma


	7. Chapter 7

**On the Run**

Part seven of a fanfiction by Velkyn Karma

**Note: **My deepest apologies for the wait. I'm pretty much the most terrible writer ever. I got slammed by a _One Piece _kick and had to get over it before I could continue on this one. As it is I feel I've lost the spark for this fic, but since I still have all my notes I'll at least attempt to finish it up for you guys, cause you deserve it.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own, or pretend to own, _Bleach _and any related characters or concepts. That right belongs to Tite Kubo alone. All that belongs to me here is the concept for the story.

* * *

"Justice will only be achieved when those who are not injured by crime feel as indignant as those who are."

~King Solomon

* * *

It was silent for almost a full minute. Nobody moved; they barely dared to breathe. Ichigo kept his feet planted firmly, kept his massive zanpaku-to held up in front of him almost like a shield. And though he was tempted to look back over his shoulder or down at the body he stood over to survey the damage, he willed himself not to. He couldn't let himself be distracted, not even for a second, in this _very_ dangerous and unstable situation.

He _could_ still listen, though, even if he couldn't look away, and he didn't like what he was hearing. Kon was panting loudly in Ichigo's own body, a sound that frequently turned to dry coughing. Moans of whimpering agony occasionally filtered through the air in between the pants as well, and there was an occasional scuffle of dirt as the body twitched. But Kon didn't try to pull himself up and run, not even now, when Ichigo was close enough to defend. That alone made the temporary shinigami understand just how bad off the mod soul was.

It made Ichigo furious, to think anybody under his protection had come to something like this; to think that such a strong—and rightly acquired—desperation for life had been so easily smothered. He wanted to take his zanpaku-to from its defensive stance, slash out wildly at the two stunned Acting Shinigami for their unforgivable cruelty and ignorance. He restrained himself, but only barely, and that only once he forced himself to remember that it would only delay Kon's execution sentence, not stop it.

So instead he held his stance, and waited.

The other two broke the standoff first. Shichi recoiled away from him, staring at his hand where the shattered remains of the image-katana held together just barely. Juusan leveled his own ranged weapon, which Ichigo could see now was an imitation of a crossbow, but carefully didn't fire. Instead, he asked slowly, "What're you doin', sir? That's our mod-soul target."

"What am_ I_ doing?" Ichigo growled back, in his best imitation of authority, which he personally felt was half-assed. The other two seemed to buy it, though, when their narrowed, suspicious eyes widened slightly in guilt. Well, the anger in his voice probably helped, and that was _definitely_ genuine. "What about you? What about the order I gave you—specifically to _come find me_ when the mod soul was incapacitated? I told you I wanted to deal with the thief myself!"

"There were complications, sir—" Juusan began, but Ichigo didn't let him finish. He raised his zanpaku-to warningly and glared at the man's image-crossbow. The Acting Shinigami, suddenly realizing his weapon was raised in a clear act of aggression against a supposed agent of the Soul Society, lowered it hastily and looked more than a little terrified.

Only when both enemy weapons were lowered did Ichigo bring his own sword down, holding it loosely in one hand, though he was careful not to sheathe it yet. It acted as a reminder to them to not get uppity, and besides, he wanted it as a last-ditch defense if he had to fight and guard Kon at the same time.

"We understand yer feelin', sir," Juusan tried instead. "We woulda returned the gigai to ya afterwards, but—"

"But this little bastard of a machine soul tried ta kill us," Shichi snarled angrily, taking an aggressive step forward. Ichigo had trouble believing that, what with Kon's stance on life, and disregarded it immediately. Instead he shifted his own dangerous gaze to the man warningly, his grip tightening on his sword hilt. Shichi halted, but his eyes narrowed again.

"That thing needs ta die," the man said instead, glaring down at the body Ichigo was still standing over. "We damaged its soul to near-death, an' the gigai is damaged enough that it won't escape anymore. That kill is ours by right. Ya ain't got no reason to get between us, respectfully speakin', _sir._ If you even got a reason..." He trailed off, clearly suspicious.

"A reason?" Ichigo snarled, still trying to maintain some semblance of authority. _Of course I've got a reason, you damned bastard,_ he raged in his head. _Kon's a living being and you're trying to slaughter him like an animal!_ But that wouldn't do as an excuse, not against a pair employed by the Soul Society itself, so he fell back on his original excuse instead. "I already told you a few times, you idiots. That gigai is _mine._ I'm already going to be in a lot of trouble for letting it get loose so it could wreak havoc. _I'm_ going to be the one to deal with it back in the Society for causing me so much trouble. Not you. That's _my_ right." He narrowed his eyes. The _just try to argue with me_ was unspoken, but understood all the same.

Shichi looked positively livid, and took a step forward, raising his fists aggressively. The way he was moving, it looked like his chest or stomach was paining him enough for him to favor it. Ichigo barely kept a smirk of satisfaction from playing over his face. At least Kon had gotten a lucky shot in before they'd reduced him to..._this_.

Ichigo responded defensively, raising his zanpaku-to a few inches and tightening his grip still further. Shichi looked like he was seriously considering attacking anyway, but his partner was thankfully still in his right mind. Juusan put a hand on the other's shoulder, and with a furious glare Shichi came to a halt.

"It _is_ his right," Juusan said, still looking extremely nervous. He glanced repeatedly at Ichigo with an expression of worry on his face. "An' he's an Academy graduate, Shichi. He's a _squad-member._ He outranks any right ter a kill we got."

Shichi bristled, but did not argue further.

Ichigo kept a wary eye fastened on them for a few moments, but neither looked ready to press an attack or jump him suddenly. He lowered his sword once again, used the chance to feel at Kon's presence with his limited spiritual-pressure sensing skills. He was getting better at it, although it was still difficult to focus so intently on spiritual pressures when it was such a subtle skill.

Still, it didn't take subtlety to sense this, not with Kon prone just nearby, and definitely not after everything that had happened to him. Even Ichigo's still-limited ability allowed him to sense that the damages were extreme. He had thought Kon looked bad enough, in his body, but the physical hardships hardly reflected Kon's spiritual ones; his soul was like broken glass, like shredded ribbon, holding together by bare strands. It shivered badly, and Ichigo actually found himself afraid that Kon's pained, exhausted mental tremoring would shatter the mod-soul apart.

How could a soul possibly come to this? Artificial or real, it didn't matter; this was disgusting treatment, should not ever have been allowed to happen. Ichigo mentally cursed himself for taking so long to find their wayward mod soul.

He must not have been able to entirely contain his anger, because both Juusan and Shichi backed away a step, and even Shichi looked concerned now. Ichigo ignored them. As long as they didn't attack, he didn't care about them. Instead he rammed his enormous katana into the dirt carefully, for safekeeping. He wanted it on-hand, just in case, and was unwilling to sheathe it, but he needed both his hands free for what he was about to do.

Ichigo fished inside his robes quickly. For a moment he thought he'd lost the item Rukia had handed him, but found it after a few more seconds in one billowing sleeve, and drew her Soul Society issue glove free. The flame and skull on its back seemed to dance morbidly, almost alive, even though he knew it was just stitching and his own angry imagination at work. He slipped the glove on his hand as best as he could—it was meant for Rukia's hands, much smaller than his own, and he could only fit two fingers through fully. But it would be enough to do the job, of that much he was sure.

He bent over his own body, still encasing Kon's breaking, exhausted soul. His back was turned to the acting Shinigami, and his shoulder blocked Kon's face from their views, allowing for a few precious seconds of observation as long as he continued to act like a real Shinigami would in every other sense of the word. He lifted his—no, for now, Kon's—head, as gently as he could, afraid that too sudden a movement really _would_ cause the mod-soul's weakened soul-fabric to simply shred apart. And the worst part was, he wasn't sure if it really was an irrational fear or not.

The movement seemed to startle Kon, and his eyes shifted blearily, tiredly, to meet Ichigo's. The body was trembling badly as well now, triggered by that touch, and practically resonated with that weakened soul. Ichigo could tell it was from fear, not cold. He grimaced, but couldn't really blame the mod-soul, not after what he'd been through. And Kon's eyes...he didn't know how to explain it. They were_ his_ eyes, he knew, but he'd never seen such a pathetic, pleading, exhausted expression on that face before, regardless of who was wearing it at the time. He looked like he was silently begging. Ichigo almost didn't want to know what the enhanced soul was begging for. The way Kon was right now, he wasn't entirely sure what it _would_ be.

Ichigo wanted to send him some sort of message, reassure him in some way that Kon was safe again, but there was no way to manage it. Not with Shichi and Juusan so close, and watching him so intently—he could feel their eyes burning on his back even now. There were two parts to protecting Kon, and himself and Rukia, too, and the second part was not letting those two become suspicious enough to re-investigate and bring the Soul Society down on them.

So instead he held Kon's head firmly and slapped his forehead with Rukia's soul glove. He felt the glove's power activate instantly: Kon's shattering soul seemed to shiver, his host body's eyes rolled, and then the pill popped from the back of his head. It clattered quietly to the path, and Ichigo snatched it up quickly, just in case the acting shinigami behind him got any ideas.

He was startled at the texture of the little pill. It had always been as smooth as marble before, perfectly unblemished. Unlike hard candies or actual medical pills, Ichigo had always found Kon's pill to be oddly resilient; he doubted it ever could have been broken or shattered simply by being dropped or stepped on, and it never suffered any wear or tear from being swallowed all the time. But now he could feel hairline cracks in its surface, and it grated alarmingly at his touch between his fingers, almost as though it could crumble apart at any moment.

Ichigo did not like that one bit.

"Bein' awful _nice_ to it, ain't yer," came Shichi's voice from behind him, still tinged with suspicion. Ichigo stood and turned, facing the acting shinigami once more. Shichi's eyes were narrowed, and while Juusan looked less confrontational he still bore a confused expression on his face.

Ichigo reached out to grab hold of his zanpaku-to again, which made the two take another step back, although he didn't intend to attack them with it. Not that he didn't want to—he'd like nothing better than to beat the two black and blue right about now—but he still had to keep up the charade. If he didn't, this would all happen again, only next time they wouldn't be so lucky. Of that he was sure.

"Nice?" he asked, and didn't bother to disguise the anger in his voice. _That_ still fit well, for his actual anger and his current role. "There's a difference between nice and smart," he hissed. "You've already nearly destroyed it as it is, you idiots. If I'm not careful with it, it'll be broken before I ever get it back to the Soul Society, and that wouldn't do me any good." He held Kon's pill up in front of their eyes, displaying the cracks with genuine displeasure.

Juusan bit his lip, clearly buying the act. Shichi seemed to buy it too, but reached out abruptly to try and snatch the pill from Ichigo's hand. The teen moved quickly, snatching his hand back and folding his fist around that little orb protectively, deflecting the reaching hand with ease. The pill grated alarmingly in his tightened palm once again, but Ichigo strengthened his grip even further. He would hold the fractured mod soul together through strength and steely will alone if he had to. He would _not_ let these pathetic excuses for people tear apart that right to live.

"You're crossing a line," Ichigo growled warningly. "Don't make me tell you again, _Acting Shinigami_," he emphasized, and hoped that alone would deflect the fact that he'd forgotten which name belonged to which person. "This is _my_ problem to deal with, and I won't allow you to interfere."

Shichi's eyes blazed with anger. That was a problem. Ichigo didn't want him coming back, or searching for revenge, or trying to instigate an investigation. He had to be dealt with. On impulse, the substitute Shinigami added, "You're already in enough trouble as it is, so don't tempt me."

"Trouble, sir?" Juusan asked, looking startled, and not terribly happy. Even Shichi paused, looking a little surprised.

"Yeah. Trouble." Narrowing his eyes at them and really, really hoping his bluff would work, Ichigo continued, "Did you think I'd just stay quiet about two acting shinigami expressly disobeying orders from a squad member? I told you not to attack my gigai and to report to me first when you found the mod soul. And just look at it now!" He pointed angrily at his own body—again, none of that fury was feigned, his body _was_ a mess. "This'll take forever to clean up. And I'm sure my superiors won't be happy to hear that you nearly attacked a squad member as well, just to disobey my orders more."

Both of them paled considerably. Shichi took a step back, and his hand flew to the buglike skull badge at his waist, gripping it almost protectively. Ah, so his bluff _had_ worked; they looked afraid. Maybe they'd lose their licenses or something if they were found out. Maybe worse. It didn't really matter, since it was an empty threat, but still...

"Our apologies, sir," Juusan stammered, bowing low. "We really didn't wanna intrude, sir...we were just, er, caught up in th'hunt, y'see. It won't happen again, we swear it."

"Yeah," Shichi added with a vigorous nod. There wasn't a hint of anger in his expression now; he just looked scared. "Sorry, sir. M-my fault. T-the gigai shouldn't be too injured, but...sorry, s-sir..."

"Enough," Ichigo snapped. "Get out of my sight. I have a lot to do now before I can go back to the Society, no thanks to either of you." Well, that was mostly true too, except for the Society part. And he sure as hell wanted to see them gone.

"Sir!" both snapped to attention, offered deeply respectful, low bows, and then promptly turned on their heels and ran. It took them some time to disappear completely from Ichigo's vision, and he watched them run with narrowed eyes the entire time, determined to make sure they really had left.

But at last they disappeared, and Ichigo relaxed his posture slightly, sheathing his zanpaku-to once again across his back. Only his fist, closed protectively around that cracked pill, remained tight as steel. In that he remained resolute; until Rukia could tell him how to fix Kon, he refused to lessen up on the pressure, would hold Kon together himself since the mod-soul was incapable of doing so on his own.

He did, however, raise his fist to his face, and said loudly and clearly, "They're gone. I got ya."

He did not continue. There was nothing else to be said.

* * *

It took some time for Rukia to actually catch up. Ichigo hadn't realized how far he'd outdistanced her by, and although the confrontation with the two modsoul hunters had _felt_ like it had taken ages, it probably hadn't been more than a few minutes. For the entire wait, Ichigo kept his hand fisted firmly around Kon's beaten pill, keeping that reassuring pressure in place.

When Rukia finally arrived, clambering over the rocky hills nearby with a look of exasperation on her face, a good twenty minutes had already passed. Ichigo waited for her to get closer, standing over his currently pilot-less body and feeling more than a little useless.

"Where are they?" Rukia asked with a frown as soon as she was close enough, looking around for the acting shinigami that had caused them so much trouble.

"Gone," Ichigo said curtly. And at Rukia's shrewd, warning look, he added, "I didn't attack them or anything, don't worry. I used the same bluff as before. They're afraid I'll report them to the Soul Society for misconduct or whatever."

"Good," she said with a nod, and seemed to relax slightly. Glancing down at Ichigo's prone body next, she asked slowly, "Kon?"

"Here," Ichigo answered, and gestured with his still clenched fist. She gave him a puzzled look, and he said more slowly, "He's...not in great shape. His pill is all cracked. I dunno if any of that kido stuff of yours could help him..."

"Let me see him," Rukia answered, frowning. Ichigo could tell she'd just sensed for Kon's condition as well, and though it was fainter in his pill state, it still did not look good. She clearly wasn't happy with her discovery. "I will do what I can."

Very slowly, very carefully, Ichigo unfolded his fingers from around the pill and held it out for her to inspect in his palm. Again, the little orb shivered and grated alarmingly when the pressure was removed, and Ichigo wondered what would happen if it actually broke into pieces.

He decided he really didn't want to discover the answer to that.

Rukia's frown deepened as she saw the extent of the damage, and she carefully held out one finger to touch the pill, withdrawing it quickly when it seemed to shift a little. "This will be difficult," she said slowly. "My gigai is still not capable of a high degree of _kido_. Most of what ability I have will have to go to this. I won't be able to spare much for your body."

Ichigo glanced down at his own prone form on the ground. It really was a mess. His leg and shoulder were both bloodied from the strange weapon attacks of those acting reapers, his skin was bruised and scratched all over, he looked thinner, and there were deep bags under his eyes. Based on the strategies the hunters had described, it was no wonder his body looked like a train wreck. Kon had probably left behind massive collections of exhaustion and hunger, too, which would be painful and irritating to deal with.

But for all that, the body would live. The damage to it was widespread, but while it would take a little time to recover from the wounds and the overexertion and the malnutrition, it _would_ be fine. He'd had worse. Kon, on the other hand...Kon didn't have that reassurance.

"Go ahead and do it," Ichigo said. "I'll be fine." He very, very carefully tipped the cracked pill into her open palm, then bent to re-enter his body while she set to work trying to repair the damage to their mod-soul.

Getting back in actually took more time than usual, which was a little surprising. Then again, Ichigo realized, he'd been out of his body for several days now, the longest he'd ever been a soul reaper for a single stretch of time. And the whole time he'd been gone his body had been under severe stress. He guessed it shouldn't be that surprising after all.

He guessed he should have expected the truckload of physical senses that assailed his mind as soon as he had returned, too. They hammered into him all at once: sharp pain from the wounds in his leg and arm, dull pain from the bruises and the scratches and the soreness everywhere else, a ravening hunger that clawed at the pit that was his stomach like a wild animal, the exhaustion so heavy it felt like a vice pressing him into the ground. It all came to him at once, so fast he was sure he blacked out for a moment before he could start regaining some measure of control.

Damn, but his body was a wreck. And Kon had been dealing with this for _days_. With this on top of his spiritual wounds, it was no wonder the acting reapers had worn him down.

He wrestled control of those senses one by one, overpowered them enough to gain control of his own body once more. Pain he could force to the back of his mind; not ignore it completely, but enough that he could function. Hunger was next, though he swore to himself he was using the rest of the money in his wallet to buy the biggest meal he could at the closest fast-food joint. That seemed to quiet his stomach a little. Exhaustion was the most difficult to ignore, the way it pressed at him, but he managed to force it back as well. It didn't have to be for long; he could sleep on the train on the way home.

When he finally mastered his body and wearily sat up, it was to find that a lot more time than he thought had passed. Rukia was crouching nearby with the little pill cupped in her palms, muttering intently. She, too, looked exhausted from the healing-_kido_ process, but Ichigo noted that at least she had been a little successful. Kon's pill still possessed hairline cracks, but they didn't look as deep or dangerous, and there weren't nearly as many of them as before. Whatever damage those acting shinigami had been able to do to Kon's soul, apparently Rukia's _kido_ was capable of smoothing it over.

At last she folded her hands and drooped tiredly. "That's as much as I can do in this body," she said slowly. "I'll need to do more after I've rested, but he is no longer in immediate danger." She glanced over at him. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got run over by a truck," Ichigo answered truthfully. "But I can walk to the station, at least. Those guys were right...their weapons really didn't damage my leg or shoulder too much. It looks worse than it is."

"That is fortunate." Rukia looked tired, and gave him a grim look. "I don't think I could have healed you much. Those weapons might not harm flesh, but the damage they cause to souls is violent beyond measure." Both their eyes dropped to the pill in her hands, almost simultaneously.

"Should we put him in the plush?" Ichigo asked after a moment, gesturing with a wince to the bag still on her back.

But she shook her head. "Possessing a body, even that small one, is still an energy-draining process," she said. "Under normal circumstances the strain is minimal enough not to inconvenience the soul...the Society wanted them to be practical soldiers, after all. But after all the recent occurrences it is probably better that he rests in his natural state without further strain."

Ichigo frowned at that, but Rukia did seem to know what she was talking about, so after a moment he nodded. "Okay. Fine. It's just temporary anyway." There hadn't really been a need to say that last part, but...after all this, after everything Kon had been through—some of which Ichigo himself could still feel—the teen wanted to make sure Kon knew he wasn't being locked away again. That it was just temporary, just for his own safety, his own life.

"That is correct. Only temporary," Rukia agreed, and it seemed she had the exact same idea in mind. Both of them stood tiredly, and she handed the pill to Ichigo, who put it very carefully in one of his pockets. Then, stumbling, exhausted, and thoroughly fed up with this little adventure, the two of them began walking up the path and back towards the city, where a train station could deliver them home to some much-needed food and rest.

* * *

Last chapter is mostly written up and should be updated...uh..relatively soon. No promises on when though. But soon.

~VelkynKarma


	8. Chapter 8

**On the Run**

Part eight of a fanfiction by Velkyn Karma

**Disclaimer: **I do not own, or pretend to own, _Bleach _and any related characters or concepts. That right belongs to Tite Kubo alone. All that belongs to me here is the concept for the story.

* * *

"There are no moral phenomena at all, but only a moral interpretation of phenomena."

~Friedrich Nietzsche

* * *

It was nearly midnight by the time they actually made it back to Karakura Town. Rukia had insisted they head for Hat-and-Clogs' shop first, in order to deal with a few loose ends. Ichigo didn't really feel like dealing with the guy again so soon, but was too tired to argue with her otherwise, even after sleeping through most of the train ride home.

He ended up staying at the mysterious shopkeep's place for another two days, while Rukia convinced, bought, or bribed Hat-and-Clogs' services to help with his recovery. Under the man's snarky, cheerful, and annoyingly know-it-all care, all of the physical problems Kon had gathered during his panicked flight were remedied. The bruises and cuts melted away with stunning quickness, his shoulder and leg injuries were completely healed, and under a foul-tasting dietary plan he managed to regain the weight Kon had lost at twice the usual rate. By the time those two days were up, he was well-rested and looked as good as new, returning home with none of his family the wiser.

Kon's recovery was equally efficient—spiritually, at least. While Hat-and-Clogs focused most of his healing regime on Ichigo, Rukia had focused _her_ efforts on repairing Kon. By the time Ichigo returned to the clinic, Kon's pill was once again unblemished and looked as sturdy as ever, and he was rested enough to start possessing his lion doll once again.

But that was only spiritually. Mentally speaking, Kon was still a wreck, and neither Ichigo nor Rukia really knew what to do about it.

They first discovered the problem the night they returned to the clinic, after the rest of Ichigo's family had gone to bed. They put Kon back in his usual plush toy for the first time since recovering him then, and were surprised at the results. Almost as soon as Kon had seized full control of his current body, he flung himself headlong at Rukia.

At first, Ichigo had felt relief, and irritation. Not even thirty seconds, and Kon was acting like his old self again; it was annoying and obnoxious, but at least it meant he was better. But Rukia's bewildered expression made Ichigo take a second look, and he was stunned to find Kon wasn't acting like himself at all. He'd thrown himself at Rukia, yes, but he wasn't trying to cling to her chest or rant pervertedly about her female, ah, _attributes._ No, Ichigo was surprised to see the stuffed animal's little arms wrapped around her neck, and his tiny cloth shoulders were shaking in an approximation of sobs.

Ichigo hadn't even known Kon _could_ cry in that form. It wasn't like he had tears hidden in the cotton. But there he was, sobbing, with Rukia exchanging stunned looks with the teen and awkwardly patting the lion on the back in a failing attempt to be comforting, and neither of them knew what to say.

Kon had subsided after a while, looking miserable and a little embarrassed. He promptly hid himself under the bed after that, not responding to anything Ichigo or Rukia attempted to say to him. They had eventually given up trying to fish him out, and both had retired, since the next day was a school day. But Ichigo was not terribly surprised to find the stuffed animal curled up just behind his back under the sheets the next morning, just close enough to have the reassurance of a safe presence nearby without actually touching it. Kon scuttled away quickly as soon as he heard Ichigo waking, and the teen pretended he hadn't noticed Kon at all, though he wasn't sure why he was bothering to spare Kon the embarrassment.

It got worse. Kon's recent near-death experience made him more than a little paranoid, and as the only people Kon interacted with, Ichigo and Rukia were often left dealing with it. For one thing, Kon _loathed_ being left alone now, and frequently took action to make sure he was near one of them at all times. When they went to school, Kon took to sneaking into Rukia's backpack, hiding beneath her school supplies and silently spending the day there. Rukia caught him at it fairly quickly, and allowed it for a few days, until she eventually got tired of it. Then Kon started sneaking into Ichigo's bag instead, when he could. And during the three instances Kon had been left in charge of Ichigo's body while he went off to kill a hollow, they had been appalled to find the mod soul following them at close range, not even attempting to hide himself from them.

Ichigo supposed he couldn't blame the mod soul for that, in a way. After all, he _had_ been attacked as soon as they were out of his sight, and he obviously didn't want to repeat the experience, as unlikely as it was to happen. Still, it was getting annoying to find the lion in his bag in mid-class, and no matter how many times Ichigo and Rukia explained that the two mod-soul hunters wouldn't be coming back, Kon refused to believe them.

His other habits were more pathetic, or downright disturbing. Kon didn't talk as much as he used to. He often attempted to bicker with Ichigo or lavish Rukia with perverted praises, but they could both tell the mod-soul's heart wasn't in it, and he just didn't seem _normal_. Both of them had observed Kon's new nightly habit of patrolling Ichigo's room after they went to bed, when he thought they were asleep; he would frequently shuffle to Rukia's closet and Ichigo's bed, reassuring himself that they were both there. And Ichigo had caught the mod-soul climbing into his bed and burying himself in the sheets and blankets near the teen several more times, though he never let on that he did.

The fact of the matter was that Kon was still scared, still obviously had a lot on his mind, and he wasn't getting over it. That alone was bad enough, but if he kept up with his habits—especially the ones when he followed them—he was going to eventually make a mistake, one that could really cost them. They had to figure out what to do about it, and soon.

It finally came to a head three weeks after Kon's near-death incident. After yet _another_ case of Kon refusing to be left behind while piloting Ichigo's body, the substitute Shinigami had finally had enough.

It was midday, and they had broken out of school in the middle of lunch to go track down the latest Hollow Rukia had reported. It had been clever, taking more time to defeat than usual, time that went well into their next class period. Rukia could usually charm her way in and out of any class with that fake-happy false personality, but people would notice if Ichigo went missing, mostly because the teachers loved to rag on him for breaking rules at any opportunity. It wouldn't have been a problem a month ago, when Kon could easily have faked his way through half a class period while Ichigo was away—and probably would have even enjoyed it, since he wasted no opportunity that put him close to girls. But Kon still steadfastly refused to be apart from either Rukia or Ichigo and had followed them straight out of the school grounds to the Hollow encounter.

Seeing Kon trailing behind them in his own body had been enough to finally make Ichigo snap. Once the Hollow was defeated, he waved Rukia on ahead— "Come up with some excuse for me, okay?" —and turned to face Kon squarely. Rukia, sensing the mood and just as fed up herself with Kon's recent clingy behavior, nodded quietly and dashed off towards the school again.

Kon looked more than a little confused, and slightly nervous as well. "So? Take your body back already. You don't have all day. And I don't want to be stuck in here anymore."

Ichigo looked him squarely in the eye, scowled at him, and said flatly, "No."

"What? C'mon, this is a dumb joke, y'know? Just take the body back already."

"I said no. I'm not taking my body back until we straighten a few things out."

Kon licked his temporary lips and looked around anxiously, probably trying to appeal to Rukia. But she was gone, along with her glove, the only other method for removing Kon from his current possession. Ichigo narrowed his eyes at the mod-soul further.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kon said finally, his voice pathetic, his lie so lame even an idiot would know it for what it was.

"Sure you don't," Ichigo said, a trace impatiently. "You've been acting weird for _weeks_. Don't think me and Rukia don't notice what you're up to. We told you a dozen times, those two hunters aren't coming back." Kon visibly shuddered, but Ichigo plowed right on. "We definitely took care of them, they're finished. They think I destroyed you too, so there's no reason for anybody to come looking for a rogue mod-soul in Karakura anymore. I can see why you might be nervous for the first week or so, but this is too much. You're going to screw up and get somebody killed if you keep doing this." He scowled again, and then added as an afterthought, "Probably _me_, since you do the really stupid stuff _in my body_."

Kon looked both surprised and a little guilty at the lecture, and Ichigo's body seemed to tense as the mod-soul absorbed what he'd said. Then, rather abruptly, he spun on one heel and tried to bolt the way Rukia had gone.

Ichigo was equal to that. If Kon had actually been allowed to get a head start, Ichigo knew he'd _never_ catch the mod-soul, not after what that hunting incident had taught him. But he'd been expecting Kon to panic and try to run for some time now, once he started the confrontation—Hat-and-Clog's calm explanation about underpod types was still in his mind. So when Kon had tensed, Ichigo had as well, and when the mod-soul began to turn he threw himself forward.

He tackled his own body to the ground, eliciting a yelp of surprise from Kon as he went face-forward to the pavement. An awkward backwards kick came next, still promising to do significant damage with Kon's enhancement even if the angle was all wrong, but Ichigo had again anticipated the reaction. He'd already rolled off Kon's temporary body, then sat on his back before he could stumble to his feet and try running again. At that angle, he was safe from any stray kicks.

"What the hell is your _problem?_" Ichigo growled, but before he could start ranting in irritation a stream of panicked babble came from the mod-soul.

"This is about the body, isn't it? Look, I'm sorry okay, I'm _sorry_ I got it beat up so bad, I didn't exactly want to get it killed or beat up or starved or anything, I mean yeah I thought about going outside but it wasn't like I was really _going_ to, I swear, I won't do anything like that again, you can have it back now, just don't throw me out—"

"Kon," Ichigo said, but the artificial soul was still babbling, almost incoherently.

"—knew you'd be mad about the dumpster food too, I mean I wouldn't have eaten it but I had nothing else, have you ever _been_ that hungry before? And I didn't have any money, you didn't leave any in your pockets, and I didn't think to grab the wallet off the desk when they attacked, I was so scared—"

"Kon," Ichigo insisted, more firmly, louder than before, a little surprised at the babble—he could barely make out what Kon was saying, the mod-soul was talking so fast—but still the artificial being did not notice, other than perhaps the tone. He cringed slightly, attempted to curl up while Ichigo was still sitting on him.

"—Not a fighter, sorry, geez, how could I know they would attack like...it's not my fault, it's not. It isn't! I'm not like you, okay, I can't just get used to fighting and act like it's nothing or beat up the people who want to kill me, I'm not that strong, I could hurt them badly and I don't want to and it's not the kind of thing I'm used to outside the simulations they trained us with, I did the best I could, okay, sorry it's not _good enough_ for you—"

_"Kon!"_ Ichigo finally shouted, almost at the top of his lungs, and the mod-soul finally cut off in mid-babble. His temporary body's head twisted as best as it could to stare at his 'attacker,' and he looked embarrassed, confused, angry, and more than a little afraid, so many emotions all rolled into one expression that Ichigo was surprised he could even pick them apart.

"Kon. Look," the teen said with exasperation, "I'm not blaming you for what happened when those guys were after you. Okay? Me _and_ Rukia know you did the best you could. Those guys were experts at hunting mod-souls. The fact that you're still alive says a lot about what you can live through, so don't pretend that's nothing."

Kon looked bewildered now. And still embarrassed, too. He probably didn't like that he'd panicked in front of Ichigo, or that the teen he usually bickered with was now, ugh, trying to _make him feel better._ It made Ichigo scowl all the more. He wasn't exactly fond of the situation, himself, but Kon's paranoia_ had_ to stop.

"I don't expect you to fight or kill either," Ichigo added after a moment. "You know that. That's why we rescued you. Hell, it's the _only_ reason I even put up with you; you're an irritating pain in the ass otherwise." Kon glared at him, bristling for a moment with a shade of his former self. But it faded quickly, replaced with a trace of anxiousness, as though what Ichigo had just said made him nervous.

"But like I said," Ichigo finished, "You're going to get somebody killed if you keep this up. There's a _reason_ we leave my body behind when I go to fight Hollows. Too easy to get damaged otherwise. People will notice if I start disappearing all the time, too, or acting different. We don't want to draw more attention to ourselves than we have to, right?"

Kon looked even more nervous at that, and after a few moments of silence he sputtered, "I...that's...you're right. Sorry..." There was a short pause, and even though he was flattened to the pavement and unable to do a damn thing about it, Ichigo could have sworn he was steeling himself for something.

Then it happened. "Have you...has anyone ever told you that you don't have the right to exist?"

Ichigo frowned. "No. Plenty of Hollows have tried to kill me, but that's not what you're talking about, is it?"

Kon shook his borrowed head quietly. "No. Let me up."

"You promise not to run?"

"I won't," Kon swore. "It's just hard to breathe with you sitting on me like this. You're too damn heavy."

"I am not," Ichigo growled, but he stood up all the same, taking a few steps to give Kon a little personal space. True to his word, the mod-soul only rolled over and sat up, rubbing his temporary chest with a grimace as he did so. Ichigo waited patiently. He and Kon didn't really talk often, but he knew that single question the artificial being had asked was only a start, not the end. Kon would get to it in his own time.

The mod-soul was silent for a while, staring at the pavement with a tired, faraway look in his eyes, before he started speaking again. "I've been told I don't have the right to exist a lot. You know that. I'm an artificial soul; people think it means I'm not _real_, or really _alive_. But I know better. I _know_ I'm a living person. I _know_ I'm a guy. I _know_ I have my own goals and emotions and dislikes. I know it wasn't programmed into me somehow. It's _mine_."

Ichigo could only nod to that.

"Or...at least...I think I am," Kon added, almost hesitantly.

That caused the teen to raise his eyebrows in surprise. "Think? What's there to question? You're alive. I can see it too." He shrugged, as though the matter wasn't worth debating. In his mind, it wasn't. Kon wasn't any different than the hundreds of ghosts he'd exorcised since he started working as a Soul Reaper, other than not having his own personal appearance.

But Kon was shaking his head. "At the end there...you have to understand. The whole time they were chasing me, I was an 'it.' They called me all sorts of things. A machine soul. A _fake_ soul. That I'm inferior. And they believed it. They really believed I didn't have the right to live."

"So? You gonna listen to'em? Great way to let them win," Ichigo said. There was annoyance in his voice, but he was frowning, too. He didn't like where this was headed.

"Not just that. The way everybody stared at me...nobody cared, out there. I got so many annoyed and angry looks. Like they didn't even know what I was, but they hated me anyway. I couldn't understand why..."

"Because you were in _my body_," Ichigo said with exasperation. "I get weird looks all the time. My hair is _orange_ for crying out loud. Plus it probably looked like you were playing hooky. Or just a punk. Covered in blood and dirt like you were, I wouldn't be surprised."

Kon was glaring at him in frustration. "You're not _getting it_, you idiot. Do you know how hard it was to think clearly after the first day? Do you think 'logic' mattered at all? Everyone out there hated me. And these hunters, they wanted me to die just because I was _born._ They let me know it at every opportunity, how completely and utterly worthless I was. At the end...at the end, I think I might have believed them. I stopped fighting. I didn't have the strength to keep believing in my right to live. To keep going. In the end, they made sense. And...I don't know. I don't know what to believe now."

Ichigo shook his head, not even believing what he was hearing. "You're alive," he repeated firmly. "And like you said when we met, you have the right to keep it that way. No arguments. So what the hell does this have to do with you following us around?"

Kon looked a little ashamed. "I, ah...well I mean, I was scared they'd come back, but...I...I was also a little afraid you might, um...kick me out..."

Ichigo blinked. This definitely was not the answer was expecting. "Huh?"

"You know. Get rid of me. Or turn me in to the Soul Society. Or that shopkeeper that wanted to des—kill me when we first met."

Ichigo could only offer a blank stare. "You can't be serious. Me and Rukia followed you around for three _days_ to keep the Soul Society from getting you. Why the hell would we hand you right over after all that?" He considered the way Kon had started the conversation, and then added thoughtfully, "Don't tell me you thought we changed our minds about your...uh...alive-ness too."

"You saw me give up," Kon pointed out, though he still looked a little ashamed. "I was going to let them just kill me. They would have if you hadn't shown up. They won, in the end. I thought maybe you'd see that..."

"You're pretty damn stupid if you really believe that," Ichigo said, still exasperated.

Kon hesitated, and then said, "There's another thing, too."

Ichigo was a little surprised at the sudden nervousness that caused Kon's voice, via his own body, to tremor. The mod-soul was clearly afraid to tell him whatever this 'other thing' was. So he stayed silent, allowed the artificial being a chance to work up his nerve. He could be patient, when he had to be.

Which was a good thing, because Kon was silent for nearly five minutes before saying so softly it was almost impossible to hear, "I...I almost killed that guy, Shichi. Back then, when I was running..."

Ichigo was expecting some horrific confession, and was mildly stunned to see Kon taking something like this so seriously. Before he could stop himself he raised an eyebrow and said flatly, "What...seriously? _That's_ what you were so worried over?"

Kon actually looked a little hurt, alongside those expressions of anxiousness and fear. "It's not as simple as you make it sound! You know how I feel about life. I swore I'd _never_ kill, and if that Juusan guy hadn't used _kido_ on his partner he'd probably be _dead_. I couldn't live with myself if I caused that. And a pacifist rogue mod-soul is one thing, but if a murder-capable one got free, you'd _have_ to turn me in, it's too dangerous to leave a murderer out there to keep killing."

"Yeah," Ichigo agreed. "A killer on the loose, we'd definitely have to deal with that. But you aren't." Kon gave him a bewildered look, and Ichigo shook his head again, adding, "Don't give me that. You aren't. I _do_ know how you feel about life, and you didn't violate that belief at all."

"What are you _talking_ about?" Kon nearly shrieked. "I attacked him, I almost _killed_ him. Don't you understand that?"

"Yeah, I do, and you did it _because_ of your right." Ichigo scowled at him, causing the mod-soul to snap his mouth shut with an audible click, before continuing. "Look, I do remember what you said when I first met you. That you had the right to live and die freely, as _you_ chose, not anybody else. Well, that's great and all, but living isn't free, and it's never easy. If it's your right to live, then it's your right to _defend_ that life too. That's all you were doing."

"I still almost killed him," Kon groaned, putting a hand to his head. "I didn't even think about it when I attacked. I'm no better than them..."

"Idiot," Ichigo growled. "Of course you are. I'm sure you didn't attack him with malicious intent. And I _know_ you didn't do it because you decided he didn't deserve to live anymore." Kon visibly shuddered, hunching his shoulders a little at the very thought. Ichigo nodded grimly at the reaction; it only proved his point. "He was trying to kill you, to take away that life that you told me yourself was _yours_. You were just defending that right to live. That's all. Anything alive would do it."

Kon went still at the word, and then almost hesitantly asked, "A...alive?"

"Yeah," Ichigo said, now entirely fed up with the conversation. "_Alive._ Now quit moping, it's getting annoying."

Kon scowled at him, imitating his own expression so perfectly that for a moment Ichigo couldn't help but blink. Then, a little stronger, a little less hesitant, the mod-soul asked, "So...I can stay? You...you said you only put up with me because of my beliefs, but...you're not kicking me out or turning me in or anything?"

"If you keep asking stupid questions I _will_ toss you right out the window," the teen answered, deadpan. "Or worse—I'll give you to Yuzu to play with. You know how much she likes stuffed animals." Kon shuddered quite ferociously at that, and while there was a faint trace of a grin indicating he got the black humor, the look of horror on his face was almost priceless.

"Anything but that," Kon said, and his speech was once again gaining back its overdramatic tone, audible even via Ichigo's own voice. "Spare me the horror! You're too cruel!"

"I'll think about it in class. Now give me back my body before I miss another one. Rukia's story had better be good or I'm going to get so much crap from the teachers again..."

The transition went off smoothly, and within moments Ichigo was picking up the ejected mod-soul pill from the pavement where it had dropped. "I'll put you in the doll after school," he said, loudly enough to be heard by Kon's natural form. "You'll just have to deal with it until then, too many things could go wrong with a moving stuffed lion at school..."

The pill, naturally, said nothing, but Ichigo had the feeling that if Kon had a mouth he'd be arguing about now. He smirked a little to himself as he pocketed the little sphere and set off at a jog back towards his school. Kon would probably still take a little while to recover fully, but Ichigo had a funny feeling that it would still come too quickly by half. Before long the mod-soul would be bickering with him once more, and throwing perverted compliments Rukia's way. But despite how irritating it could be, Ichigo wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

And there we are...the final portion, the end.

To all of you out there that kept following this fic, thanks very much for keeping with it to the end. It didn't get nearly as much feedback as I had hoped (poor Kon), but if it made even a few people happy, then I'm satisfied. :)

~VelkynKarma


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